


teach me how to say goodbye

by wednesdayaddxms



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Action/Adventure, CA: TFA timeline, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, OC centric, Romance, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 54,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26186248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wednesdayaddxms/pseuds/wednesdayaddxms
Summary: With World War II raging around her, a young reporter yearns for more than the four walls of her office. She seemingly gets the chance of a lifetime when she interviews the soldiers of the 107th regiment but gets more than she bargained for when Bucky Barnes steps into her life. Now everything has changed and she has to learn how to live her life with and without him.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	1. Prologue

_ “Some people say that home is where you come from. But I think it’s a place you need to find, like it’s scattered and you pick pieces of it up along the way.” - Katie Kacvinsky,  _ _ Awaken _

* * *

**The Howling Commandos: The Six Men That Changed the Course of World War II, Evelyn Thomas, New York Times, January of 1946**

On a dreary, rainy night in November of 1943, a group of men met at a pub in London, England with the sole purpose of creating an elite squadron ready to rush the front lines. Following the helm of Captain America, these six men were deemed The Howling Commandos. 

The Howling Commandos consisted of men that had been freed from a prisoner of war camp in Austria, battle-hardened and willing to do whatever it took to make sure their comrades would avoid the same fate.

Major James Falsworth explained, “We saw what had been happening not just to ourselves but to other people. To have the chance to stop it… There was no question. I was following Rogers.”

To the American people, they were heroes for their actions. To their families and friends in their hometowns, they were simply their sons, husbands, brothers, and friends.

Rebecca Barnes, sister of James “Bucky” Barnes, teases him in a letter: “Mom says that it doesn’t matter if you’re a big ol’ hero; you’re doing all the dirty laundry you left behind as soon as you get home.”

All the members of The Howling Commandos wrote back home whenever they could, their homes being far-flung from one another but during the war they created a new home. A home with each other. The camaraderie between these men was unshakeable even after the end of the war.

Private Jim Morita reminisces in a letter a year later, “That’s one good thing the war brought us. We were brothers. I knew that whatever happened, they would be there for me. Despite us all being separated now, one of us could simply call and we’d be on the next flight out to wherever we were needed.”

Following the initial success of the documentary,  _ “Captain America and The Howling Commandos,”  _ shot and directed by Vanessa Price, the men are now leading quiet lives in their own little corners of the world with their families and friends, sure to be etched in our history as heroes of World War II.

**Full biographies on each member are available on pages 28, 29, 30**


	2. Curiosity Killed The Cat

_ “[She] had always suffered from a vague restlessness, a longing for adventure that she told herself severely was the result of reading too many novels when she was a small child.” _

_ \- Robin McKinley, The Blue Sword _

* * *

_ “Get the story, get out. It’s dangerous out there. I’d give this to another guy but you’re the only one available. Don’t let me down, girl.” _

Evelyn Thomas replayed her boss’s words in her mind as she stared down her dim reflection. Her green eyes were alight with determination and the tops of her cheeks were slightly flushed. She had fought hard to get this story and she wasn’t giving up now.

It was 0530 in the base of the 107th regiment but the place was already alive with a flurry of movement and orders and the day-to-day activities needed to keep the base running. Evelyn nodded to herself once more before grabbing her camera and satchel from the vanity and turning towards the entrance of her tent.

She’d never been on a military base before but from what she could see as she stepped outside, it was a well-oiled machine. Soldiers were running in their formations, sergeants and colonels were walking back and forth with papers and files in their hands, dogs and their trainers passed by her without so much as a glance at her.

“Evelyn Thomas!” someone called as they strode up to her. Evelyn recognized this man from a photo that had been cut from a New York Times article that she’d placed in her files. He held out his hand to her. “Colonel Chester Phillips.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Colonel,” Evelyn said, grasping his hand firmly. He nodded at her before gesturing for her to follow and walking away swiftly. He was a tall man with a long stride and Evelyn practically had to jog to keep up.

“You eaten yet?”

“No, sir.”

“Good, neither have I. Let’s grab something and get going.” He led her into the mess hall which was buzzing with morning conversation between soldiers. As Evelyn and Phillips made their way to the back of the tent where the food was being served, the tables they passed fell silent. Soldiers openly gawked at Evelyn with her camera slung around her neck and her heels making the tiniest of clacks on the floor. 

She stared straight ahead, keeping her face neutral despite the unpleasant warmth blossoming in her cheeks.

“Eyes on your plates, soldiers,” Phillips barked. The men immediately looked back down at their meals and Evelyn let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Phillips glanced at her as they reached the back of the tent. She mentally shook herself, trying to gather her wits. She could do this. She could do this.

“Now, Miss Thomas, I’ve lined up a few of my men for your interview. Think you can work with them in under an hour and a half?” Phillips asked as they grabbed their meals and quickly made their way out of the mess hall. He picked up his pace again, leaving her in the dust. She followed him all the way to a small tent with the sides rolled up that covered a desk and a couple of chairs. They barely made it underneath before the sky opened up and it started pouring rain.

Evelyn's gaze flicked across the desk. She noticed a framed photo of Phillips and a woman, presumably his wife. A pack of cigarettes and a box of matches sat next to each other. There were countless stacks of paperwork but something that stood out the most to her was a list of names. The print was too small for her to read the specific names but peeking out from underneath the paper was a letter that started with,  _ Dear Mrs. Anthony, It is with deep regret that I must inform you- _

“How many men have you lost in the past few weeks?” Evelyn asked as she sat down across from Phillips. He paused with a piece of bread halfway up to his mouth. His gaze was hard as he let his hand fall.

“Too many.”

“Do you have a number for me?” she asked. “To satiate my own curiosity.” Phillips shifted around the papers on his desk, turning some over and hiding them under other papers with much less sensitive information.

“Curiosity killed the cat, Miss Thomas,” he replied grimly.

“Curiosity didn’t kill these young men,” she said. “The war did.”

“You’re telling me you don’t think these men are brave? That this isn’t a war we should be fighting?” Phillips asked. 

Evelyn shook her head but said, “My personal thoughts on the war don’t matter. I’m here to bolster the war effort back home and that’s what I intend to do.”

“So you’re a sellout journalist?” Evelyn chuckled. Maybe that’s where she was heading. Maybe that’s where all of her coworkers were heading. Who’s to say that you don’t get easily jaded in this job? When will Evelyn lose her objectivity? When will she become detached from the subjects she reported on? It could be tomorrow, it could be ten years from now.

“Not yet,” was all she said. They sat in silence, finishing their meals, before Phillips cleared his throat and stood. Evelyn stood as well, straightening her back to look taller.

“You’ll be meeting Sergeant Barnes and the rest of his squadron over in that tent in fifteen minutes, Miss Thomas,” Phillips said, pointing off to her left.

“The one that’s last in line?” she asked, just to make sure.

“Affirmative.” Evelyn glared out at the downpour but nodded anyways. She quickly undid the top buttons of her coat and shoved her camera down her front. Certain that she was going to regret this, she dashed out into the rain. Her hands were clutched over her chest where the coat didn’t quite cover the camera.

She passed several waterlogged soldiers who turned to look at her as she ran by, splashing their already muddy boots as she stepped in puddles near them. 

Evelyn finally reached the tent and ducked in to find that she was the only one in there. A sigh of relief escaped her as she unbuttoned her coat.

Thankfully, the camera had only gotten wet on the very top where it wasn’t apt to do much damage. She shook out her coat the best she could, indeed regretting having run through the rain. It was a black coat but she could still see the water droplets soaking in; she hoped that it would dry out fully. It was a gift from an old friend, after all.

Evelyn draped the coat over the back of one of the chairs in the tent and checked her watch. She still had a considerable amount of time before Sergeant Barnes was due to arrive. She busied herself with making the space suitable for what she was used to, moving the desk and chairs around until she had herself a nice little interview setup.

She leaned back against the desk and took a few deep breaths. She could do this. It was an interview to bolster the war effort. She had her questions prepared, her tape recorder ready, and her notepad at hand. The biggest task was making sure these soldiers stayed on topic and didn’t say anything too negative.

Evelyn checked her watch once more; six minutes remained. She walked back around to her side of the desk and made sure that her tapes were wound and her pencils were sharpened. At this point, her double-checking was due to nerves more than anything else. Three minutes. 

She wished she had eaten more than the bread and strawberries from her breakfast as her stomach grumbled. Two minutes.

She tried to tame the wet mess that was her hair. One minute.

0600 came and went and no one entered the tent. Evelyn paced back and forth a couple of times before peeking outside, prepared to be made a fool of if the sergeant was right there. No one was even outside at all. She leaned back inside with a huff.

Evelyn slowly made her way to the desk, noticing that it had many drawers to it. She glanced back up at the entrance to the tent before looking back down.

She inched open the top drawer and sighed with disappointment; it held only office supplies. The next drawer contained much of the same. Her sleuthing was turning out to be a bust so far. It wasn’t until the next drawer that she found something to satiate her curiosity.

It was locked. Intriguing. Evelyn tried to jimmy it open but it wouldn’t budge. She slid a hairpin out of her curls and stuck it into the lock, twisting and prodding until she heard a click and it slid open with a creak.

A few files lay there, covered in dust. Whoever had left these here obviously forgot about them. Evelyn plopped them on the desk and waved away the cloud of dust that floated up. She opened the first one only to find that much of it was blacked out. What she could read didn’t give her much information.

_ HYDRA… SCHMIDT… ZOLA… _

The last two were obviously names but the first one seemed like code for something. Evelyn thought back on the one classics class she took in college. It was horrifically boring and she had paid hardly any attention to it. The word did ring a bell however. Now if she could just remember…

Voices started to get closer to the tent, barely audible over the din of the rain. Evelyn quickly snapped the folder shut and placed them back into the drawer. As she tried to close it, it became jammed open. She fiddled with it for a few moments before kneeling to fix it.

As she was doing so, a man stepped inside and paused upon seeing her.

“You’re snooping,” he announced. Evelyn finally snapped the drawer shut and stood up straight.

“You’re late,” she retorted. That brought a smirk to his face. She rounded the desk and stuck out her hand for him to shake. “Evelyn Thomas, New York Times.”

“Sergeant James Barnes,” he introduced. He gave her an obvious once over before grinning and saying, “But everyone calls me Bucky.”

“Alright, Bucky. Where are the rest of your men?” she said, quickly moving on to business. Bucky strolled further into the tent, taking off his uniform hat and raincoat.

“On their way,” he said unhelpfully. Evelyn huffed softly but nodded.

“Do you mind if we get started?” she asked, gesturing to the chair in front of the desk. Bucky nodded and sat down, crossing one leg over the other. He carried an air about him that attracted Evelyn like a magnet. It didn’t make sense to her. All her life, she’d disdained men who acted the way he did: confident, snarky, walked with a swagger in his step. Something about this man intrigued her however.

She started up the tape recorder and flipped to a clean page in her notepad, ready to begin.

“Tell me a bit about yourself, Bucky,” she started.

“You want my autobiography?” he asked. Evelyn sighed softly. She gave him a look that conveyed the seriousness of the interview; this wasn’t the time for sarcastic remarks. “My name is James Buchanan Barnes, although everyone calls me Bucky. I’m from Brooklyn. I trained at Camp McCoy before shipping out to England. The 107th was moved here and here we are.”

Evelyn grinned and nodded, scribbling down the key points in her shorthand. She asked more questions about basic training, what his first few days were like, whom he was closest with on base.

“Do you have a girlfriend or wife back home?” Evelyn asked without looking up. Bucky didn’t answer for a few moments. When she looked up, he was grinning slyly.

“Now, why is that important, Miss Thomas?” he asked. Despite herself, she felt her cheeks warming up and staunchly pushed the blush down. She started her sentence a few times before finally managing to get a full one out.

“It’s important to humanize you soldiers,” Evelyn said. Bucky chuckled, still leaning back.

“Sure it is. But, no, I don’t have a girl back home.” She nodded and wrote that down. Her next question wasn’t nearly as invasive, thankfully.

“What hobbies did you have back home?” Bucky set both his feet on the floor and leaned forwards, propping his knees on his elbows.

“I was a boxer. Three-time heavyweight champ. I even trained a friend of mine for a couple of weeks,” he said. The last sentence carried a bit of wistfulness to it. Evelyn made a note to ask about this friend if time allowed.

“Impressive resume,” Evelyn said, scribbling down details as he spoke. “How quickly did you rise to the rank of sergeant?”

“Within a few months of completing my training.”

"Once again, impressive,” Evelyn said with a smile.

“I try to be,” Bucky replied.

“Well, you’re certainly succeeding.” Evelyn gave Bucky a smile that might’ve been just a bit too coy but he responded in kind with a grin of his own. Her smile fell from her face as she shivered violently. It had become increasingly cold in the tent but her own coat was still waterlogged.

“Here,” Bucky said, unbuttoning his uniform jacket. He passed it over to her but she hesitated. It was unprofessional. What sarcastic remarks would her coworkers make?  _ “Got all doe eyed over some soldier and it ruined your work. Professionalism, Thomas, you ever heard of it?” _

Her thoughts were interrupted by Bucky saying, “I won’t tell if you won’t.” The smile on his face now was much more genuine than it was cocky. Slowly, Evelyn reached out and grabbed the jacket before sliding it on.

Bucky was much broader than her and the sleeves fell past her fingertips. It felt oddly comforting. She grazed her fingers over the pins on the breast of the jacket. Already, he was a decorated officer. Evelyn hadn’t been lying when she said Bucky was impressive.

“What’s the biggest life lesson you learned in your time in the military?” Evelyn asked, suddenly all business once more. Bucky stared at her for a moment with that piercing blue gaze.

After several long moments, he said, “The world is a much bigger place than you could know.” She decided not to ask for any elaboration but nodded and wrote that down verbatim in her notepad. The interview continued swimmingly until Evelyn turned to what she was truly curious about.

“Now, Bucky…” Evelyn started. “What’s HYDRA?” Bucky raised an eyebrow before reaching over and switching off her tape recording.

“Where’d you hear that? From reading classified documents you found in a desk drawer?” Evelyn just folded her hands on the desk and leaned forwards slightly.

“What is it?”

“A hydra is a Greek monster-”

“With seven heads,” Evelyn said, suddenly remembering, “Cut one off and two more grow back. I’m aware. But what is it in terms of the military? A division? A squadron?”

Bucky opened his mouth and hesitated before shutting it once more. He grinned slyly at her.

“I’m not gonna reveal military secrets,” he said.

“So it’s a secret? Is it a secret to the people of Germany? Schmidt is a German last name after all,” Evelyn said, recalling one of the names on the sheet. Bucky leaned forwards with his elbows on his knees. She could see the muscles cording his arms through his shirt. She bit the inside of her cheek; she needed to focus.

“You think I’m just gonna hand over classified information because of a pretty face?”

“You really think I’m pretty?” Bucky chuckled and leaned back in his chair. Before he could say anything else, several men burst into the tent, all laughing and sopping wet.

“Bucky, you done getting your headshots taken?” one of the men called as he strode in followed by several more soldiers. Evelyn swiftly removed Bucky’s jacket and placed it on the desk before anyone could notice that she had been wearing it.

“That took a while, Dugan. You get lost on your own base?” Bucky asked. The two men smiled at each other before all of them turned to Evelyn. She stood and held out her hand, introducing herself to each of the men in turn. All their names flew past her in a flurry but she managed to keep one solid thought in her mind.

“Bucky, I’d like to get a photo of you since we conducted a solo interview.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Pucker up, Buck,” one of the men joked. Evelyn huffed slightly as she picked up her camera and Bucky sat back down in his chair. Everyone was quiet as she snapped three different photos at different angles to make sure that she got a headshot the editors would like.

“Alright, I’m sorry that I won’t be able to get solo interviews with everyone but my time is short,” Evelyn announced. She was all business now; she had to be in order to conduct an interview with seven soldiers in a timely manner.

Even with their lively banter throughout the whole thing, Evelyn managed to get some really good material out of the interview. They talked up their heroic exploits and reminisced on home with a tinge of sadness. They joked with each other, lightly teasing one another. 

When she took a group photo, they kept jostling each other and messing around. It seemed that these men had found camaraderie in each other. That thought drove her to write down a note about it to use in her article and give everyone reading at home the warm fuzzies.

“Thank you so much, everyone,” Evelyn announced as she shut off her tape recording. “Our time is coming to an end. It went much quicker than I thought it would.”

“Were we entertaining at least?” a soldier named Gabe asked.

“Very,” Evelyn answered with a smile. She stood to shake their hands once more. 

One of the men, after shaking her hand, asked her, “Are you heading back home after this?” Her eyes inexplicably flitted to Bucky before settling once more on the man in front of her.

“I am. My plane leaves tomorrow, early in the morning.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bucky’s grin fall. “But I’m here until then, writing things up in my quarters. If you men have some free time, feel free to stop by.”

The soldiers gave her their thanks before heading outside back into the pouring rain. Evelyn grabbed her own soggy coat and propped it over her head before exiting the tent, leaving Bucky alone in there.

She made it all the way back to her tent before she realized. Her camera. Evelyn cursed at herself before running back outside, her jacket still held above her head. She slowed down from her run as she got closer to the tent. Right as she was about to open the flap, she heard voices.

“...want you to head out at 0200. We’re not wasting time on this, am I clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“There and back, no fooling around. Dugan’s driving. The truck will be ready on the east side. Get as close as you can, just to confirm it’s HYDRA.”

“Yes, sir.” Evelyn skirted to the side, around the corner of the tent right before someone exited. Miraculously, they didn’t see her. As she watched, she realized that it had been Phillips who was talking to Bucky. A few moments later, Bucky left as well, his head ducked under the force of the rain and his raincoat plastered to his body.

Evelyn stared after Bucky as he strode away. She narrowed her eyes and made her decision: she was going on that mission. It sounded harmless and it would give her great insight as to what HYDRA was. 

Sneaking along couldn’t possibly be that hard, she thought. All she had to do was get ahold of a uniform and find out where they were meeting and then stow away and make it back here unscathed.

Piece of cake.

She started with the uniform. It was easy enough to sneak into the laundry tent. It wasn’t guarded or patroled, being the laundry tent and all. Evelyn fancied herself quite the spy as she walked in and grabbed several items of clothing. She ducked back out, hiding the bundle under her coat, and dashed back to her tent.

Examining the clothes she got, she was pretty spot on with the size of the undershirt. The pants, however, were far too big. She’d have to make do with the belt she had. The jacket she secured was also too big but that would only help in obscuring her figure.

The first part of her plan has been successful. For the next part, she’d heard Phillips say something about the east end of the camp; it shouldn’t be too hard to locate them. Now all she had to do was wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much to my friend, rocky, who came up with this wonderful idea that effectively consumed eight months of my life. this is the first fanfiction i've ever written to completion and i am incredibly thankful to her for letting me write this and to everyone who is going to read it. don't hesitate to let me know what you thought in the comments, i love hearing from you guys!


	3. Fear Is The Mind-Killer

_ “I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will.” _

_ \- Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre _

* * *

It had been raining on and off throughout the rest of Evelyn's day. At least, she assumed that it was raining sporadically. She would tune in and out of her surroundings as she worked on her piece. She had been loaned a typewriter by the base and using that, combined with her handwritten notes and the tape recordings, she made significant progress on her article.

“Have you eaten?” Evelyn gasped and whirled around. Her eyes flicked to the bed where she had put the uniform but, thankfully, the whole bed was a mess of sheets and blankets that covered the uniform. Bucky was standing at the entrance to her tent, holding two trays of food. “No one’s seen you since the interview this morning. It’s already 1300.”

Peering around him, Evelyn could see that the rain had indeed stopped. She waved him in and scooted her chair back from her desk.

“Thank you. I had completely forgotten about eating,” Evelyn chuckled. Bucky set the tray down on her desk. While it wasn’t what she would’ve made for herself back home, it was something that provided nutrition and taste for the soldiers on base. “Please, sit,” Evelyn said, gesturing to the bed. He took his uniform hat off and set it next to him as the bed creaked under him.

“How’s the article coming?” Bucky asked after he swallowed a bite of food.

“Well, it's coming,” she sighed. Although she’d written a lot, she wasn’t particularly happy with it. It wasn’t the material she had to work with; the interviews had gone swimmingly. It was simply her own writing that she was frustrated with.

“Then I think this is a well deserved break,” Bucky said with a grin. Evelyn nodded, grinning, before taking a bite of her own food. They made idle chat as the rain picked up again outside. The pitter-patter of drops on the tent soothed her; she’d always loved the rain. When she mentioned as much, Bucky shuddered.

“I never liked it much. The clouds are always so dreary,” he said with a glance at the entrance of the tent. Evelyn shrugged good-naturedly. Her eyes fell on Bucky’s tray that was sitting next to him on the bed. They’d both almost finished their meals but Bucky hadn’t touched his strawberries yet.

“Hey, Bucky,” she started, “Are you, uh, gonna eat those?” He raised an eyebrow but passed the tray over with a grin. She eagerly dug into the berries, tearing off the green tops.

“Want me to go ask Dugan if he’s gonna eat his?” Bucky asked, jerking a thumb towards the entrance. Evelyn paused, considering, before she realized he was messing with her. She narrowed her eyes but grinned around the bite in her mouth.

“That’s not funny, Bucky,” she said with mirth. Bucky grinned at her, leaning back on his hands.

“Did you not get enough material from the interviews?” he asked, bringing the conversation back to her article.

“No, you were all great. I got some really good stuff,” Evelyn said as she turned in her chair to pick up a sheet of paper she’d been marking up. Her eyes roved down it, scanning over the words, making mental notes here and there. Bucky said something that she didn’t pick up on. In fact, she didn’t realize that he’d said something until she set the paper down and turned to him. His expression was knowing with a raised eyebrow.

“What did you say?” she asked. Bucky chuckled and tilted his head.

“I said that you look cute when you’re focused. You get a little wrinkle right here,” he said, pointing in between his eyebrows. His grin was open and honest with no hint of teasing. Evelyn felt herself blush. She smiled and chuckled breathlessly, looking down at her feet.

“Thank you,” she said as she looked back up. After a few comfortable moments of silence, Bucky sighed and stood.

“I’ll take these back,” he said, gesturing for Evelyn to hand over her tray.

“Thank you again. For bringing me lunch,” she explained. He paused, standing halfway between her and the exit. Evelyn wanted to say something to keep the conversation going; she didn’t want him to leave just yet. Any thought she had died on her tongue however. Her hands sat in her lap, picking at her nails ever so slightly as Bucky stared her down with a soft gaze she had yet to see from him.

“You’re welcome,” he said before turning and leaving the tent, going back out into the rain. Evelyn gazed at the flaps of the tent before she sighed and turned back to her desk. Back to work.

\---

As her progress on her article slowed to a stop, Evelyn took it upon herself to ready herself for the mission, looming ever nearer. She replaced the tapes in her recorder, tucked away her notes, slept for a few hours, braided her dark hair back, and dressed in the uniform that she’d stolen right before it was time to leave. She belted the pants tightly and rolled up the hems so that she didn’t step on them.

Evelyn looked at her wristwatch and saw that it was fifteen minutes to 0200. She snatched up her coat and slipped it on as she reached for her tape recorder and camera. A few hours ago, she had switched out the film in the camera to ensure that she had plenty of space. In her satchel, she carried more film, more tapes, her notepad and pencil, and a few odds and ends that she always carried with her no matter the circumstance.

As Evelyn peeked outside, she glanced around to see if anyone was out and about on base. It seemed to be deserted. She dashed outside and half-jogged towards where she was assumed the group was meeting.

As night had rolled in, a fog had settled in over the base, obscuring Evelyn's vision. Trucks and tents loomed up out of the darkness and passed by her, silent and unmoving. 

A chill went down her spine as she marched on into the darkness. It had become increasingly cold; her exhales turned to mist in front of her as she walked.

Eventually, the sound of voice floated towards her although she still couldn’t see anyone. She distinctly heard Bucky’s voice among the others. The shapes of several tall men appeared in the gloom.

Evelyn quickly backed up and made her way around to the other side of the truck, idling with the exhaust visible in the cool of the night, walking lightly through the forest. 

When she glanced back again, her heart pounding, she saw that everyone’s attention was on Bucky. He seemed to be quietly giving orders. She slid into the back of the truck and hunkered down underneath a spare tarp that was stashed back there. Now she had to wait again. All of this sneaking around better be worth it, Evelyn thought.

Within moments, everyone climbed in and the truck started up. She let out a silent breath as the truck began moving. There was no turning back now.

If the men were making conversation, Evelyn couldn’t hear it over the roar of the truck. Every time they hit a particularly large bump, she was jostled uncomfortably. The entire ride, she was suppressing groans. One or two slipped out but it seemed that she remained undiscovered.

The ride felt like it took hours. The entire time, she was entertaining possibilities of what would happen if she was caught. Or worse, left behind enemy lines.

Not only would her field license be revoked, but she could be fired and possibly even thrown in jail. Maybe it would be a military jail that she would never return from. Maybe they wouldn’t even release her when the war was over.

The truck finally slowed to a stop and she readied herself to get out. It had to be at the perfect moment in order to not lose the squadron on the way to wherever they were heading.

Evelyn listened to the men disembark the truck and, once they were all off, she pushed upwards on the tarp. It was caught under her and she struggled quite a bit with it, grunting slightly. Suddenly, she heard a small click. Oh no.

She renewed her efforts only to have someone yank the tarp off of her, sending her rolling and almost falling out the back. A bright light was shined directly into her eyes. The barrel of a rifle was barely visible next to the light. She held her hands up, squinting into the light.

“Is that Lana Turner?” someone with a thick Boston accent asked. Evelyn groaned softly as she struggled to sit up. This wasn’t how she’d planned on being found out. She hadn’t planned on that at all actually.

“Unfortunately not,” a familiar voice said, “Just a reporter who doesn’t know when to quit.” A hand reached into the circle of light. She grasped it and they hauled her up. Suddenly, she was practically nose to nose with Bucky who was nothing more than a dimly lit silhouette.

“What is wrong with you?” he said with barely contained rage.

“I’m chasing a story,” she retorted. Bucky let go of her hand and stepped backwards. He gestured to the other soldier and told him to leave the truck.

“You could get killed out here. You could end up killing my men,” Bucky said lowly once the other soldier was gone.

“I know-”

“You don’t know. Trust me.” Bucky took a step closer to her. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were ice cold. Evelyn couldn’t help but avert her eyes. 

“Camera,” he ordered, holding his hand out. She unslung it from around her neck and passed it over. “Recorder.” She handed it over as well. He tossed them both carelessly onto the seats before moving to exit the truck. Evelyn was quick to follow, noticing how the broad set of his shoulders was tense.

The clouds had evidently moved on as Evelyn caught a glimpse of a dark copse of trees visible by moonlight. She marched out of the truck and hopped down onto the ground, using Bucky’s outstretched hand to stabilize herself.

“We walk from here,” he announced. No one started moving, choosing instead to look at Evelyn who had definitely not been a part of the original crew. Evelyn, staunchly ignoring them, looked once more into her satchel and made sure she had everything.

“We’re bringing a stowaway?” Dugan asked, approaching her. He barely glanced at her before moving past her to Bucky. They murmured to each other for a few moments during which Evelyn took in her surroundings.

They were on a simple dirt road, flanked by dark trees. The moon was glowing in the sky overhead and the stars were glistening. It would’ve been nice and peaceful except… she didn’t hear anything. 

The truck’s engine had fallen silent and there was no chirping of crickets or movements in the underbrush. There was no wind to shake the boughs of the trees. There was no babbling of a creek or hooting of owls.

She looked to Bucky with a confused expression but quickly turned away. The conversation between him and Dugan seemed to be getting heated with a lot of gesturing in her direction

“Let’s head out. Stay close, stay alert,” Bucky finally said to the group. He jerked his chin for everyone to follow him. They all started forwards with Evelyn jogging to catch up to Bucky. Dugan’s glare followed her. Once she fell in step beside him, she opened her mouth to say something but she snapped her mouth shut instead.

“You noticed it,” he mumbled. “No one else did.”

“It’s hard not to notice,” Evelyn replied.

“This area was used for experimentation. All of their weapons and radiation and mutations wiped out the wildlife. Speaking of,” Bucky said with a sideways look, “you brought water, right?”

“I did,” she said, hefting her satchel.

“Good. Don’t drink any water you find around here,” he said. Evelyn's shoulders shook with the force of the chill that went down her back. Breaking the tone of the moment, Bucky grinned. “Cold?”

“I’ll warm up,” she replied with her own grin.

“Good. Next time I have to give you my coat, you might as well keep it.” Evelyn stifled a laugh even as she felt two burning spots high on her cheeks appear. She was just glad that the moon had washed all the color from everything; he couldn’t see her blush that way.

“I’m sorry, by the way,” Evelyn said. She looked up at Bucky to see his eyes glued forcefully on the road ahead.

“For?” he asked.

“For sticking my nose where… where it doesn’t belong.” The words pained her to say but she knew that now she had crossed a line. Screw that, she’d crossed a ravine and now there was nowhere to go back to. “I get it. It’s dangerous out here,” she continued.

“No. You really don’t get it.” Once again, Evelyn wondered what exactly she was going to see upon their arrival to the front lines. Her mind started to race with possibilities. She had heard horror stories from those who worked on the war stories in the office. 

Her coworker, Johnson, had taken a break from travelling and it wasn’t just because of his new baby; he’d done a story on the front lines much like Evelyn was now and had come back a totally changed person. Evelyn just hoped that wouldn’t happen to her.

As the encampment loomed into view, Evelyn breathed a small sigh of relief. Her feet in the ill-fitting boots she had taken were starting to ache. Before they got much closer, Gabe jogged up to her and passed her a hat.

“Here. Tuck your hair up into it,” he said. She nodded and did so. If anyone looked close enough, there’s no way she would pass as a man but she was only hoping to fool the few people they saw in the encampment.

No one was up and about when they arrived and, from what she could gather, they weren’t staying but simply passing through. At the footfall of the group, a soldier ran around the corner of the tent, a rifle slung over his shoulder.

“Whoa, there, private,” Bucky said, holding a hand out to placate the man in front of them.

“Sorry,” he said, “I thought you guys were spies or something.”

“We’re from the 107th on a recon mission,” Dugan stated. “I’d appreciate it if you keep our presence here a secret. We’ll be gone in twenty minutes.” The private looked nervously between them, his gaze skating over Evelyn. Bucky finally waved away the private. The private returned around the corner and Dugan called softly for them to keep moving forwards. 

They reached the edge of the camp, more trees looming into view, when Bucky called for them to stop and get some water. Evelyn leaned back on her heels and dug into her satchel for her own water. It felt cool, clear, and clean going down her throat. She hadn’t realized that she was thirsty. After a few greedy gulps, she wiped at her mouth and stashed her canteen back away.

She cast a few glances around once more, not quite knowing what she was checking for, before looking back at Bucky. He’d been staring at her. As soon as she met his eyes, he looked away.

“Alright, let’s move out,” Bucky said, addressing the whole group. They all stood and before Evelyn knew it, she’d spent another half hour hiking through the wilderness. 

At some point, Bucky led them off the dirt road they’d been following and into the forest. The terrain became uneven and steep. Evelyn almost tripped over roots and rocks several times. More than once, Bucky signaled for them to stop and everyone ducked down, drawing their weapons.

It made Evelyn feel utterly defenseless. Despite being a journalist in a war zone, she wasn’t allowed a weapon. However… Her hand drifted over her satchel once or twice during those tense moments.

The gray sky was beginning to finally lighten when they stopped again. They were up on a ridge in a small clearing that overlooked a compound of sorts.

“What is it?” Evelyn breathed. Out of the corner of her eye, Gabe turned to her.

“We think it’s a HYDRA base.”

“What’s HYDRA?” she asked, jumping on her chance to get more information. Her voice was low for fear of being too loud and giving away the position of the group.

“It used to be Hitler’s weapons division. We’ve gotten some intel that they’ve broken off and are trying to-”

_ Crack! _

Everyone whirled around to face the sound behind them. Evelyn's heart was hammering in her chest. It wasn’t the sound of an animal; all of them were gone. It had to be a person.

A shot rang out. One of the men next to Evelyn jerked backwards as if pulled from behind. Blood spurted from his arm, spraying her jacket with red droplets. The men around her unslung their rifles and fired back into the forest.

All Evelyn could do was stand there, dumbfounded, until someone wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her to the side. She stumbled all the way until her vision of the forest was blocked by a tree. She finally looked up to see it was Bucky. His blue eyes were flicking between her and the woods beyond.

“Stay here. Stay safe.” Before she could respond, he ran off, back into the foray. Evelyn now heard the sounds of men grunting and blows landing. Who was winning, she couldn’t tell.

From her vantage point, she couldn’t see any of the fighting. Both of her hands were clutched onto her satchel, debating whether or not she should attempt to help. Her mind was racing, her gaze fixed on the compound below her when someone kicked her in the ribs.

Evelyn grunted and stumbled to her left, all of the air knocked out of her lungs. A man in a German uniform stood next to her. Evelyn skittered backwards, digging into her satchel, hoping and praying that she could find it. The man grinned at her menacingly. As her hands finally found what she was looking for, she stopped moving backwards.

The man grabbed onto her hair at the nape of her neck and dragged her close. His other hand was balled up in her jacket, keeping her where she stood. He reached up and knocked her hat off, letting her braid fall down. The soldier grinned unpleasantly. He said something in German in her ear but she wasn’t listening. 

Evelyn unsheathed the switchblade she’d brought and stabbed upwards with all her might. The man cried out in pain but didn’t let go of her. She yanked her hand back and this time aimed at the arm that was still holding her jacket. The man jerked backwards from her and stood there, breathing heavily.

Blood streamed from the wound in his stomach as well as the wound on his left arm. Evelyn could feel the hilt of her knife was slick and warm but she readjusted her grip on it and hefted it threateningly.

“Don’t even try it,” she called. His hand went towards his hip where Evelyn noticed all too late, he had a pistol. Before he even had a chance to draw it, two more shots rang out. Two evenly shaped holes appeared in his chest and he fell backwards.

Evelyn whirled around to see Bucky lowering his own sidearm, several yards away. Before she knew that she was moving, she was running to him, running a hand across her brow to wipe away her sweat. It came away with a small smear of blood. She slowed to a stop in front of Bucky and hesitantly brought her fingers up to her cheek where she felt more wetness. More blood.

It was all over her right hand as well, streaming down her wrist and into her coat sleeve when she held up her switchblade.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked, placing a hand on her bloodstained one. She was okay. She had survived. She nodded and wiped her blade on her jacket for lack of a better place to do so.

“We need to get out of here,” Bucky said, “They know we’re here now. We’re not out of the woods yet.” Evelyn nodded grimly.

“I can keep going,” she said, her voice surprisingly steady despite the churning in her stomach. Bucky nodded and gestured for her to move forwards.

The hike down was much faster than the hike up. Evelyn's legs were practically jelly as she jogged down, Bucky always flanking one side of her.

They paused only once to give aid to their man who had been shot in the arm. As far as Evelyn could tell, that had been the only serious injury to their group. A few of the men were sporting black eyes and bruises on their jaws but those would heal on their own.

“Where did you get a switchblade?” Bucky asked as the camp came into view. It was the first time they’d spoken since they’d been on the ridge.

“A pawn shop.” To her surprise, Bucky chuckled. The walk and Bucky’s voice had made things easier but, in her mind, she kept replaying the soldier falling to the ground over and over again.

“You are… really something else, Evelyn,” he said.

“Is that a bad thing?” she asked, somehow cracking a smile as well. He looked down at her just as the clouds in front of them parted and the orange light of sunrise streamed through to cast a glow on them.

"No,” Bucky said, “Not at all.”

Their group was making small talk and little jokes the whole way back to their base but the tension hung over them like a cloud. Soldiers kept glancing back at her before turning and whispering. 

Evelyn heard when Dugan and Bucky mumbled something about writing up a report to give to Colonel Phillips. Her shoulders tensed again. 

Thankfully, they had skirted the camp they’d passed through previously to avoid alarm and to save time on their journey back.

On the truck ride back, Evelyn felt as though she should sleep and she felt tired enough to but something kept her from it. Perhaps she didn’t feel safe on the open road even though they were far from enemy lines.

Bucky kept glancing over at her on the ride back. At first, she ignored it but she finally turned and asked him why he kept looking at her.

“Nothing. Just glad that you made it out safe,” he said soft enough to not alert any of their companions to their conversation. Evelyn nodded.

“Me too. I’m glad you made it out too,” she replied softly. Bucky smiled softly and turned away from her. He didn’t look back at her again for the rest of the drive. The truck stopped after what felt like years and Dugan appeared to usher everyone out.

Evelyn was the last one out, being helped down by Bucky’s outstretched hand. She had put the switchblade in one of her trouser pockets but as Colonel Phillips strode towards them, she had the urge to pull it out again. Even from afar, Evelyn could feel the anger that the colonel carried with him.

Bucky stepped forwards and tried speaking to Phillips. Phillips barked an order at him and he reluctantly stood at attention.

“You’re not authorized to carry a weapon,” Phillips growled once he had reached Evelyn. She stood taller and lifted her chin, willing herself not to tremble.

“I wasn’t going out onto the battlefield without one.”

“You weren’t supposed to be there at all. You could’ve been killed and then I would’ve been the one to blame.” Evelyn bit back a retort and took her time to think about her response.

“I knew what I was getting into and-”

“You obviously didn’t. And you,” Phillips said, turning to Bucky. “Next time you let a pretty face sucker you into breaking the law, I’ll have you discharged.” Bucky gave him an affirmative without looking at him. 

Phillips turned back to Evelyn and held his hand out. She reluctantly dug into her pocket and handed over the switchblade.

“Get cleaned up, Thomas. You’re a bloody mess.” Phillips turned and strode away. No one moved until he disappeared around the corner of a tent and was out of sight. Bucky walked over to Evelyn who had been staring after Phillips, silently fuming.

“It’ll be alright. He’ll get over it.”

“I hope so,” Evelyn said as she brought her hands up to start picking at the blood that had dried on her fingers.

“Let me show you to the showers,” Bucky said, placing a hand on her back. Evelyn heaved a sigh and let herself be guided towards the showers. “There won’t be anyone in there and I’ll keep watch to make sure no one tries to go in.”

“Thanks, Bucky.” They made a quick stop by her tent to grab her shower items and an extra change of clothes. Bucky promised that he would stay outside until she was done. She gave him a soft grin before disappearing into the tent.

As Bucky had stated, the showers were empty save for her. She tried to shower as quickly as she could but the pounding of warm water felt too good on her body. At first, she watched the blood go down the drain as she scrubbed it from her hands. Eventually, she just closed her eyes and let the water wash over her.

With her eyes closed, she could see the German soldier who attacked her. She saw his grin, heard his foul whisper, felt his hand twisted into her hair. Evelyn snapped her eyes open and looked around.

She was still on the base in the shower that had long grown cold. Bucky was just outside. She could hear soldiers running in formation and sergeants barking orders beyond the barrier of the tent. She was safe.

Evelyn finally shut the water off, not noticing that she was shivering until she tried putting on her dress. Her fingers were fumbling and her hands were shaking as she buttoned up the front. She hoped it was just because of the cold. She gathered her clothes and her shower items into a bundle and held them to her chest. A few deep breaths later and she was ready to leave.

When she finally exited, she almost ran into Bucky who was standing with his back to the entrance. He turned to face her and smiled. It quickly fell however.

“Are you okay?” he asked when she didn’t say anything. Evelyn mutely nodded and looked up at him. Her heart was beating unevenly as he gazed at her. “You’re not okay.”

“I’ll be fine,” Evelyn said.

“You don’t have to try to-”

“I said I’m fine,” she snapped, more harshly than Bucky deserved. He tilted his head and reached out to her. His hand was large and warm where it touched her shoulder. He reached his other hand up to brush a wet strand of hair back from her face to behind her ear. Bucky’s presence was comforting and sure, the rock in the storm that had been raging around her.

“If you need me, my barracks are right there,” Bucky said as he pointed to one of the tents. Evelyn nodded and tried to give him a smile but it came out as more of a sad grin. She began the walk back to her own tent before she turned and called after Bucky.

“What was the mission for anyways?” He grinned at her good-naturedly.

“I wasn’t wrong when I said you don’t quit,” he said, strolling up to her, “But it was a recon mission. To figure out how close HYDRA had gotten to the lines. If we could, we’d try and figure out what they were building but… as you remember, we got found out too early.”

Evelyn nodded slowly, absorbing the information. She gave Bucky a quiet thanks before turning and going back to her tent.

When she arrived, she found that she didn’t have much to do. In her absence, her satchel and camera had been taken. By whom, she wasn’t sure. She slowly applied her makeup with care. She paced around the tent a couple of times. She perfectly coiffed her hair only to mess it up and redo it. She peeked out of the tent to see who was out and about.

She finally slipped on a pair of heels and made her way out of the tent, meandering over to the tent where Bucky said he’d be. No one was in there but him and his back was to her. Evelyn gingerly stepped inside and cleared her throat.

“Oh, hi,” Bucky said after he whirled around. He was in his uniform pants and a white t-shirt with his dog tags swinging free around his neck.

“Turns out, there’s not much for a photojournalist to do on a military base when all of her materials have been confiscated,” Evelyn said. Bucky looked down at his notebook and laughed. He waved her over to show her what he had been working on. It was a rough sketch of the mountain range visible from the base.

“I took an art class with my best friend when we were in high school. Sometimes I think it paid off,” Bucky said as he sat back down on his bed. Evelyn sat next to him and held her hand out. He passed her the notebook and pencil and they conversed while she worked.

“You must’ve been really popular with the ladies in that class, huh?” Bucky chuckled at that remark.

“I’m popular with the ladies everywhere I go,” he said. Evelyn let out a full blown laugh. “Oh, what, you don’t believe me?”

“No, no, I do,” she said through her giggles. Bucky scoffed in mock offense, putting his hand up to his chest.

“Are you popular with fellas back home?” he asked. Evelyn didn’t look up from her work but she snorted derisively.

“Most guys don’t like a girl who’s more focused on her work than them,” she mumbled.

“So… no boyfriend back home?” Evelyn looked up with a coy smile. Bucky was looking at her with a barely contained smirk. Evelyn forced herself to keep her smile even despite her blushing again.

“Sergeant Barnes, are you asking if I’m single?”

“Depends, Miss Thomas,” Bucky said, leaning forwards a bit, “Would you be scandalized if I did?” Evelyn leaned in as well.

“I  _ thrive  _ on scandal,” she said in a bit of a husky tone. Bucky smiled at her, his eyes flicking down to the notebook in her lap. He leaned back and gazed down at it in confusion. “Oh! Yeah,” Evelyn said, realizing that she hadn’t actually finished what she was working on. She quickly drew a few more dots before brandishing her finished creation.

A grid of evenly spaced dots all over the paper. Bucky grabbed it from her and looked at it, almost as if he was expecting something to appear on it.

_ “La pipopipette,”  _ Evelyn announced as she twirled the pencil in between her fingers. “Otherwise known as the dot game or the game of dots or the game of boxes or whatever other moniker you give it.”

“It’s a game?” Bucky asked. Evelyn scooted closer until her thigh was brushing Bucky’s. She quickly demonstrated how to play, with each of them taking turns drawing lines between the dots until it made a square. Evelyn earned the first square which she proudly marked an ‘E’ in. She graciously gave Bucky the next square and marked a ‘B’ in it.

“Where did you learn this game?”

“My big brother. I have no idea where he learned it though,” Evelyn said as she marked another line and passed the pencil back to Bucky. They played throughout their conversation, passing the pencil and notebook back and forth between them.

“Your best friend… the one you took an art class with,” Evelyn said. “Do you miss him?”

“A lot. When this is all over, I might even miss you too.” Evelyn looked up in shock. Bucky’s eyes were sincere and his expression was open and honest. She thought about it for a moment and agreed with him; she was going to miss Bucky too. Just the thought of being far from him set her chest aching. She slowly marked another line on their game before Bucky spoke again.

“Can I ask you for a favor?”

“Of course,” Evelyn answered immediately. Her swiftness shocked her but she didn’t try to take it back.

“When you go back, will you find him for me? Tell him that I’m okay and make sure that he’s alright?” Bucky looked vulnerable in a way that she hadn’t seen yet. Evelyn nodded and promised that she would. He ripped a page out of the notebook and scrawled the information on it before folding it and handing it over to her.

The serious mood between them was broken when Dugan, Gabe, and a few more soldiers Evelyn didn’t recognize all walked into the tent, laughing boisterously. Evelyn smiled fondly at them, surprised to find that she was coming to see these soldiers as comrades rather than subjects of an article. When she turned back to Bucky, she found that he was gazing at her.

“What? I got something on my face?” she asked with a smile. Bucky shook his head and opened his mouth to say something. He was swiftly interrupted by Dugan calling for them, telling them that dinner was in five minutes.

“Of course, if you two wanna be  _ alone  _ together-”

“Guys, come on,” Bucky protested, standing up. Evelyn's cheeks immediately flushed and she cursed herself for it. Was there ever going to be a time where she could keep her composure? She stood as well and tried to look as stern as she could, propping her hands on her hips. The chuckles petered out before one of the soldiers, Evelyn remembered his name was Michael, awkwardly cleared his throat.

“We’ll see you guys at the mess hall,” he said before turning to leave, practically dragging Dugan along with him.

“Care to join us for dinner?” Bucky asked when their companions had left the tent. Evelyn looked at him and hesitated. The idea of the mess hall made her stomach turn unpleasantly. The idea of all of those people made her uneasy.

“I think I’ll just take dinner in my tent,” she said. Bucky nodded sympathetically before grinning once more. Just seeing that grin made Evelyn's heart stutter and her spirits lift.

“Well, then,” Bucky said, offering her his arm, “May I escort you?” Evelyn smiled fondly for a moment. Her gaze hesitated a little too long on his face before she nodded and linked their arms together. 

When they stepped outside the tent, the sun was setting, turning the sky a flaming orange. It was no longer cold enough for them to need jackets, having warmed up significantly over the course of the day.

“Is this what it’s like all the time?” Evelyn asked. Her gaze was fixed on the way the light glinted off the mountains visible in the distance. The air was balmy and there was a slight cool breeze that ruffled her hair.

“The good days are like this,” Bucky said, following her gaze as they strolled slowly towards the mess hall. Evelyn didn’t respond; she simply smiled up at Bucky. If this was what the good days were like, she thought, she wouldn’t mind staying for a little bit longer.

Dinner was a nonevent as she took it in her tent. She busied herself reading a book that she’d brought along. Halfway through her nighttime routine, a soldier brought her satchel and camera by. Thankfully, everything seemed to be unharmed and not tampered with. There was no evidence that she saw a HYDRA base at all.

Speaking of which… Evelyn quickly scrawled a note to herself which she shoved into the lining of her suitcase in the event that she was searched upon leaving base or arriving in America. 

She finished her bedtime routine and climbed into bed after turning out the light. She laid there, listening to the sounds of crickets and the sentry’s quiet footsteps. Her covers became tangled in her legs as she tossed and turned before she finally drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to everyone who has read this so far! i really hope you enjoyed this chapter and will enjoy where it's going next!


	4. Nightmares and Daydreams

_ “There’s no shame in fear, my father told me, what matters is how we face it.” _

_ \- George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings _

* * *

Evelyn woke up in the forest. She turned in a slow circle, examining her surroundings but every time she turned her back they seemed to change. Her breath was visible in puffs as she exhaled. 

She shivered violently and looked down to see that she was in her pajamas, the same light blue ones she’d gone to bed in. Her dark brown hair was falling loose, brushing the tops of her shoulders.

_ “Evelyn...”  _ She whirled around. The whisper seemed to have come from behind her but there was no one there. Another whisper sounded, soon creating a cacophony of voices. Evelyn kept looking around, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from, her heart beating faster and faster in her chest.

Suddenly, the whispers stopped. Silence fell in the forest once more. Then… footsteps. Light footsteps that crunched the underbrush.

Evelyn turned around and saw her. A little girl. She was wearing a red dress and knee high socks and a bow in her hair. Her green eyes looked intelligently up at Evelyn who breathed a shaky sigh.

It was herself. She couldn’t have been more than four or five. The little girl started trudging past Evelyn, up the hill. All she could do was stare after her until she remembered what was up there.

Evelyn started running up the hill towards the ridge. The ridge rose above, growing steeper and steeper with every step she took. Twigs, leaves, rocks all stabbed upwards into Evelyn's bare feet causing her to wince every time she took a step.

“Wait!” she called without much inflection. The little girl didn’t seem to hear her. Evelyn kept calling out, trying to get her to stop. Eventually, Evelyn reached the top of the ridge but the little girl was nowhere to be found. She turned in a circle, wondering where the girl had gone and what horrors had become of her.

_ Click. _

Evelyn stopped in her tracks and slowly turned. The German soldier from the ridge was aiming his pistol at her. He fired once, twice, three times, nailing Evelyn in the chest each time. It didn’t hurt but she looked down at the blood spurting from the wounds .

She pressed her own hands to her chest and tried to staunch the flow but it bubbled up between her fingers. Her hands were stained red as was her pajama top. She opened her mouth to say something but she was choking. Blood poured out of her mouth and down onto her hands.

Blood was everywhere, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t see anything but red, red, red, red,  _ red, red- _

Her eyes snapped open and she sat bolt upright. Her hands went to her chest but her shirt was dry and free of holes. She looked around wildly, trying to ascertain where she was. Slowly, her vision cleared and she could see the faint outline of the flaps of the tent, highlighted by the moonlight outside.

Evelyn put her face into her hands. She was trembling all over, both from the cold and from her dream.

_ It wasn’t real… it wasn’t real… it wasn’t real… _

Ever so slowly, Evelyn rolled out of her bed, placing her feet onto the cold, hard floor of the tent. She slipped on a pair of flats and slid her coat over her pajamas, not quite aware why she was doing it. All she was aware of was the need to feel something other than the cold sweat that lingered on her forehead from her dream.

As she knotted her coat closed, she peeked out of the tent. The base was silent and unmoving. Silver moonlight streamed down, leeching the color from her surroundings. Evelyn felt as though she’d stepped from one dream into another as she walked outside of her tent, wrapping her arms around her middle.

Aimlessly, she meandered down rows of tents, recognizing the mess hall, Colonel Phillips’ tent, and the one where she’d met Bucky for the first time. Her fingers and toes were slowly starting to tingle from the cold.

“Evelyn?” someone asked. Her heart jumped in her chest as she whipped around. It took her a few glances around but she eventually saw Bucky emerge from the shadows. Her fear must’ve shown on her face because he raised his hands slightly as though calming a cornered animal.

“Oh, uh, hi,” Evelyn said, shaking her head to clear the momentary fear.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. Her chin started trembling. The nightmare came back to her in a rush; how it felt to be shot, the blood choking her, spilling past her hands.

“I had a nightmare,” Evelyn quietly admitted as she looked down at the ground. Bucky took a few steps closer, his arms crossed. He was also shivering slightly.

Evelyn took a deep breath and started, “I was in the forest again but there was a little girl. I mean- it was me. It was me but I was a little girl. And she starts running up the hill towards the ridge. I start following her, knowing what’s waiting for her and…” Her breath hitched.

“Evelyn, you don’t have to go back ever again,” Bucky consoled. He reached up and placed his hands on her shoulders. The tears in her eyes flowed over onto her cheeks. She impatiently wiped them away, furious with herself for showing such weakness in front of Bucky.

“I get up to the ridge and there’s the soldier, the German soldier. And- and he’s pointing a gun at me and then he fires-” She cut off with a sob. Bucky’s hands moved up and down her arms, stroking gently. Evelyn’s face was becoming hot and tingly from crying, a contrast to the rest of her body that was still freezing.

“He fires three times and hits my chest each time. It doesn’t hurt and I don’t scream but all of a sudden… I can’t breathe because there’s blood choking me and there’s blood on my hands. It’s everywhere and-” It felt as though the air had been stolen from her lungs as she tried to inhale without success. She was hyperventilating, unable to draw a real breath.

Bucky stepped even closer to her and gently wrapped his arms around her. She clutched onto him as she sobbed, letting herself get it out. Bucky’s hands stroked her back softly. Feeling him was a reminder that she was here in the real world, not in a dream, certainly not back on the ridge.

As her sobs subsided into hiccups, Evelyn sniffed and leaned back from him. Immediately, her hands went to her face to wipe at the tears. She had always hated crying, especially in front of other people.

“Thanks for letting me cry on you,” Evelyn said, trying to lighten the mood. She sniffed hard once more and rubbed her face vigorously in an attempt to rid herself of that tingling feeling.

“Mind if I walk you back?” Bucky asked as his arms fell from around her. She nodded and jerked her chin in the direction of her tent. She hoped that Bucky could navigate this base because every tent looked identical, save for the larger ones meant for multiple soldiers.

“Think you’re gonna get enough sleep before your flight tomorrow?” Bucky asked. Evelyn shook her head and raked a hand through her hair.

“I’m not quite sure. I hope I can get to sleep after this,” she mumbled. The rest of their meandering walk was silent although she noticed Bucky hovering a bit closer to her than he had been. Her tent loomed into view eventually and they stopped right in front of the entrance. Evelyn inhaled deeply, trying to steady herself for the rest of the night.

“I can stay if you want,” Bucky said softly. She looked up at Bucky. She hadn’t noticed before but he was sporting a bruise on his jaw from the skirmish on the ridge. The bruise was dark and patchy in the moonlight. His expression was open and genuine. Evelyn couldn’t help but nod slowly.

“If you don’t mind… I’d like you to stay.” Bucky grinned softly, pulling back the flap of the tent so she could enter and turn on the light, the bare blub flickering before steadying into a harsh glow. The bed was a mess of twisted sheets and blankets; the desk was equally mussed with papers and drafts of her articles strewn about.

Bucky moved to reach into the trunk at the end of Evelyn's bed. Her curious nature begetting her, she’d looked into it when she first settled in only to find that it held extra sheets, pillows, and blankets. He pulled out another couple blankets and pillows and started to make himself a makeshift bed on the floor. She quietly watched him do so, focusing on keeping her breathing even. With Bucky here, she felt better but she wasn’t quite on an even keel yet.

“What were you doing up?” she asked, perched on the bed with her coat discarded at the foot of the bed, as he moved to turn off the light. He paused with his back to her, the set of his broad shoulders tense.

“Same as you,” he finally answered, turning towards her. She nodded slowly.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled as she laid down, untwisting the covers and pulling them up to her chin. Bucky gazed at her with a certain softness she hadn’t had the chance to see yet. “Will you be able to sleep?”

His grin was hollow when he replied, “I’ll try.”

He flicked the lights off, not seeing how Evelyn flinched when they did. She heard the shuffle of Bucky sliding under his blankets and his deep exhale. It was dark enough that Evelyn couldn’t see anything other than an outline of his body.

It took several minutes of her shifting, fidgeting with the edge of her blanket, and blinking away tears to realize that she wasn’t going to be able to sleep. Slowly, she sat up and looked down at where Bucky was laying.

“Bucky,” she started softly just in case he was already asleep.

“Yeah?” he replied, just as awake as she was.

She slid down from the bed and made her way to the center of the tent where he was laying, bringing her own blanket with her. Bucky shifted to make room for her on his little pallet. It wasn’t soft or comfortable, laying on the cold ground but being next to another human brought her great comfort.

“I know what it’s like,” Bucky said softly, “to be in danger like that. To worry about others. To hurt another person.” Evelyn remained silent for a few moments until a question came to her.

“Does it get easier?”

“In some ways. Killing someone never gets easier though. It’s always hard to hurt another person.” They fell into a silence broken only by crickets and the odd hoot of an owl. Evelyn tried closing her eyes and listening to the noises of nature. It didn’t help.

She jerked slightly, her eyes snapping open when she felt a hand on her arm. It was just Bucky. He started to say something but Evelyn wasn’t listening. She reached her hand out and touched his shoulder, feeling down until she found his hand, lightly tugging him closer. 

He got the hint quickly enough and scooted towards her. This time, he made the first move and wrapped his arm around her waist, drawing her in closer. She nestled up to his chest and sighed shakily.

Bucky shifted until his legs were intertwined with hers and both of his arms were wrapped around her. Being wrapped up like this in someone else grounded her; she had no doubt it did the same for Bucky too.

It took what felt like hours but Evelyn closed her eyes. This time, when she drifted off to the sound of Bucky breathing, she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

\---

Evelyn shifted and groaned lightly when Bucky started untangling himself from her, quickly falling back asleep when he left the tent. She sat up some time later, yawning and stretching. The ground had done a number on her back. The air outside her blankets was frigid and she rubbed her arms, trying to get some heat into them as she looked around the tent.

Bucky was nowhere to be found. She sighed softly, finding herself far more disappointed than she expected to be. Lightly, she gnawed on her bottom lip for a moment before readying herself to get off of the floor. She shifted until her legs were crossed under her with a groan and another large yawn.

“Not a morning person?” She looked up to see that Bucky had entered the tent, holding two mugs that were steaming. Relief flooded her chest at the realization that he hadn’t abandoned her after their night together. She squinted at the light that he turned on. “What if I could change your mind?” Bucky asked mischievously.

“And how are you going to do that?” Evelyn asked with a sleepy smile. Bucky handed her one of the mugs. She inhaled the sent of coffee deeply before taking a scalding sip. It was terrible. She loved it.

“With coffee. Why, what were you thinking about?” Bucky asked with a sly smile. He looked much more rested and at ease. It twisted her gut pleasantly to see him smile like that.

“Miss Thomas!” someone called from outside. They both looked towards the entrance of the tent as Evelyn yanked the blanket up to her chest and called for them to come in.

Dugan peeked his head in with a grin. His gaze flicked back and forth between Evelyn and Bucky before he realized that Evelyn was still in her pajamas. He settled on looking at Bucky even though he was speaking to Evelyn.

“Ma’am, we have a car taking you to the airstrip in twenty minutes,” he said.

“Thank you, sergeant,” Evelyn said, looking awkwardly down at the floor. Bucky cleared his throat and nodded before heading to the tent entrance.

“I’ll see you outside, Evelyn,” he said, suddenly all business. Evelyn nodded and waited for both men to exit before she let her blanket fall. She let out a loud sigh. It was time to go back home and face the consequences of her actions. Whatever pleasant moments had been happening that morning were now over. Back to business as usual.

Evelyn quickly dressed and did her makeup, not bothering to do much with her hair. Whether her and Bucky had slept in or they just didn’t give her a lot of time to get ready was unclear to her. She managed to pack her suitcase and satchel in record time however.

She emerged from her tent, slightly breathless to find Bucky there in his sergeant’s uniform. She never used to understand why so many women back home went crazy over men in uniform but, looking at Bucky now, she was beginning to get it.

“I’m not used to seeing you all decked out,” Evelyn joked.

“Would you prefer me to take it off?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. Evelyn laughed, something inside her heating up at the idea.

“I don’t think any of us want to see that,” she retorted. Bucky rolled his eyes good-naturedly. Their banter was taking on a natural rhythm for her, one that she was loath to leave behind. 

She hefted her suitcase in one hand, intending to put it in the car but Bucky quickly relieved her of it. Her heart twisted violently in her chest as she watched Bucky place her suitcase in the trunk of the car.

Something in her wanted to stay despite the ordeal she’d been through. She wanted to stay despite the obvious contempt she received from Phillips. She wanted to stay despite the nightmare. She wanted to stay with Bucky.

“Evelyn, you alright?” Bucky asked. Evelyn quickly realized that she was tearing up. She cleared her throat and blinked a few times.

“Yeah. I’m alright. Just… I’m gonna miss the food,” she joked. Bucky stared at her for a moment, obviously not swayed by her joking demeanor. He cracked a small smile as he approached her.

“Hey, on the bright side, there might be some strawberries left for the rest of us,” he said. Evelyn couldn’t help the grin that spread over her face. His comments always served to make her feel better. He jerked his chin towards the car. “Come on, Miss Thomas. Your plane awaits.”

Evelyn started to step into the car. She stopped with one foot inside, looking back at him. His uniform hat was charmingly askew and his smile was genuine.

“Thanks, Bucky,” she said. He nodded and waited for her to climb in before closing the door for her and jogging around to get in the other side. They sat with considerable space between them even though the air tingled with electricity. Evelyn wanted to reach across the seat and intertwine her fingers with Bucky’s. Her fingers twitched with the urge.

“What’s the first thing you’re going to do when you get home?” Bucky asked. Evelyn looked out the window at the passing landscape. The trees had turned into green blurs going by. There wasn’t any scenery like this in New York; it would’ve been nice if not for the thought of what lurked in the forest.

“Hand the article over to my boss and hope that I don’t get fired,” she said with a small smile.

“Do you regret coming to the front lines with us?” Bucky asked. Evelyn glanced back at him and thought on it. The answer surprised her. In all honesty, she didn’t regret it at all. With the information she gathered and the things she saw, this was shaping up to be the biggest story of her career. But it was more than that.

Evelyn had finally left her office. She did more than photograph meaningless moments and write puff pieces on why you should collect scrap metal. She went all the way to Italy, all the way up to the front lines. She had been shot at and attacked. She fought back in the most literal way possible.

She didn’t regret any of that.

“No. No, I don’t,” she settled on saying. Bucky grinned at her and slid his hand across the seat to grasp hers. She laced their fingers together before glancing at the driver to make sure he wasn’t looking at them. 

For a moment, she wanted to burst out laughing. Evelyn was a grown adult and here she was, holding hands like some middle schooler in the back of a car, hoping no one saw them. 

“We’re here,” the driver said after a considerable amount of time. He stopped the car and quickly got out to open Evelyn’s door for her. She let go of Bucky’s hand as her door was opened and she slid out without a glance behind her.

The airstrip wasn’t anything special, hardly more than dirt and grass that had been worn away by planes coming and going. The land was flat and the trees were several hundred yards away in any direction. A passenger plane was already idling on the ground, obviously waiting for her. 

She moved to the back of the car to grab her suitcase but the driver had already gotten it for her. She smiled and nodded at him before taking it for herself. Bucky was immediately at her side, ready to grab her suitcase from her but she was determined to carry it herself. They made it halfway to the plane before Evelyn stopped in her tracks.

“You’ll stay safe, right?” Evelyn asked.

“Of course I will,” Bucky promised. “You stay out of trouble too. No sneaking off in any soldier’s trucks.” Evelyn laughed at that. They stood in silence for a few moments, Evelyn’s throat closing on itself. 

She cast a glance up to the plane door where she could see the pilot and a man in a suit waiting for her. They had delayed it long enough. She had to go.

“Goodbye, Bucky,” she said softly.

“Goodbye, Evelyn,” he replied. She smiled sadly and turned away, walking all the way up to the plane steps. She paused and cast a glance back at Bucky. He was still standing where she had left him, hands in his pockets. He took one of his hands out and lifted it in a wave. Evelyn waved back half-heartedly.

Evelyn marched up a few steps and handed her suitcase to the pilot who gestured for her to give it to him. She stopped once more. If she stepped foot on that plane, she wouldn’t see Bucky again for god knows how long. She couldn’t leave without at least saying something.

Evelyn spun around and ran down the steps. She ran all the way back to where Bucky was standing, intending to stop and speak, but she barely slowed down before colliding with him solidly. Bucky’s arms wrapped around her waist and she brought her arms up to link behind his neck. Before she knew what she was doing, she brought his face down to her level.

The kiss caused the world to fall away. Evelyn no longer heard the rush of the wind, nor did she feel anything but Bucky’s lips on hers and his hand on her cheek. It was perfect and over all too soon.

Evelyn leaned back and opened her eyes to see Bucky’s mouth hanging slightly open. He didn’t say anything, causing Evelyn to chuckle.

“No sassy remark?” she asked. “You have the world’s worst timing,” he said, cracking a smile. They both leaned in once more although this kiss was much lighter and carefree. Evelyn never wanted to leave this moment but the roar of the plane called her. She had to go home.

They bid goodbye to each other once more before Evelyn jogged back to the plane. She cleared her throat and smoothed out her skirt as she boarded the plane. She didn’t look back at Bucky as she did so; if she did, she wouldn’t be able to leave.

Evelyn ran a hand over her wind-tousled hair, trying to tame it as she took her seat. There were only two other passengers and both of them were staring at her. She grinned slightly and nodded, trying to maintain her composure.

As the plane took off, Evelyn stared out the window with a hand under her chin. Her stomach was twisting and her heart felt like a rock in her chest. She hadn’t anticipated leaving to be so hard.

Throughout the plane ride, she revised her article and, having done that, slept. There were no nightmares this time, thankfully, but she woke feeling worse than she had before. After countless long hours, they arrived in New York.

Evelyn had faced an attack and intimidating military personnel but now, as she deplaned and caught sight of her boss’s furious expression, she was more nervous than she had been in the past few days. All she could do was hold her head up and accept the consequences.

Those consequences turned out to be a very stern talking-to and a three-day suspension while her materials were reviewed and the article was edited. Even though it was late when she arrived at the office, having come straight from the plane, her coworkers were still there. Surprisingly, Johnson approached her as she was packing up a few items so she could work from home.

Johnson was his last name; his first name was Michael. He was significantly older than Evelyn, around his late forties or so. He’d been in the photojournalism world for quite a while compared to her. Out of the men she worked with, he’d always been the rudest to her.

“I heard you went to the front lines,” he said, perching on her desk.

“I did.”

“Against Werner’s orders?” Evelyn looked up past their little bullpen to where a door with the shiny nameplate that read ‘LEWIS WERNER’ was. She glanced back over at Johnson before continuing to pack away pencils and a notepad.

“He didn’t specifically say to  _ not  _ go to the front lines,” she mumbled.

“Did you see them?” Johnson asked quietly. Evelyn’s head snapped up. She paused before leaning in slightly. “HYDRA?” The last word was barely more than a whisper.

“I did,” she said, refusing to give more specifics. “They made me leave my camera behind; I didn’t get any pictures.”

“They did it to me too,” Johnson said with a glance around the room. No one else was there besides them anymore.

Evelyn whispered, “If there’s something about HYDRA that you know-”

“I don’t know anything,” Johnson said, pulling back suddenly. “You’re suspended. Get outta here.” Evelyn jerked backwards in indignation at the sudden shift in his demeanor but she continued to pack her satchel. When she finally turned around to the exit, she saw that Werner and Lionel had entered the room, both holding cups of coffee. Ah. Evelyn understood now.

As she exited, Lionel chuckled at her while Werner gave her a dismissive look. She had to shoulder her way past both men in order to leave.

“Watch it, little girl,” Lionel said as she bumped into his arm, almost spilling his coffee.

“You watch it, old man,” Evelyn retorted. Werner didn’t say anything as Evelyn strode away, he simply sighed. This had become the norm in the office as of late. 

While Johnson was usually the rudest to her, it didn’t mean her other coworkers were nice. There were a few interns that were polite if only in the hopes of getting promoted. To his credit, Werner usually tried to stop the spats that came about. 

Lionel and Menger looked down on her not just for being an ambitious woman but also for her age. She just had her 24th birthday a few weeks ago. The men in her department had been there for years but, unlike Evelyn, they hadn’t been recruited right out of college. That, plus the other men always getting better stories than her, had led to a lot of resentment and jealousy between the workers.

Part of that resentment came from Evelyn’s professor providing an in for her, having previously worked there. Some of her coworkers presumed that Werner took her on solely because of that; they didn’t see the years of hard work it took for her to get there.

Evelyn took a taxi back to her apartment and was finally able to breathe for the first time in what felt like years. There was no one around to judge her or talk down to her or even give her a strange look.

Before she committed herself fully to getting ready for bed, she took the note she’d stashed away in her suitcase lining, intending to add onto it with the brief information she’d been given by another soldier.

The note read:  _ HYDRA. Base in Azzano. More behind enemy lines? _

In addition, she scribbled down:  _ Science division. Split off from Hitler. Possibly making moves against him? _

Satisfied with that for now, she moved her bag to her small bedroom and placed her satchel on her bed. The only sounds in her apartment were the small thumps of her shoes as she slid them off and the creak of her bed as she sat on it. She leaned back onto her bed, groaning as she went. It felt good to lay down. She was more exhausted than she thought she was.

As Evelyn laid there, staring up at her ceiling, feeling her spine decompress, she listened to the sounds of honking cars outside. Manhattan was always alive, no matter what time it was. This was the noise she was used to, not the chirring of crickets in the forest. 

Evelyn only intended to close her eyes for a few moments but the sounds of the city and the feeling of a soft mattress under her pulled her into a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! i appreciate every hit i get!


	5. Friends, Allies, and Enemies

_ “Some souls just understand each other upon meeting.”  _

_ – N.R. Hart _

* * *

It was on her three-day suspension that she opened the note Bucky had given her with his best friend’s information on it. At first, she had been viewing this as a fairly simple task but her heart sank when she saw the first line on the paper.

Steve Rogers. She was trying to track down Captain America. Evelyn chuckled to herself; of course Bucky’s best friend was America’s current golden boy. She didn’t know what else she expected.

Finding a poster with his tour dates wasn’t tricky at all; the posters were practically plastered all over the city. All she had to do was make a run to the grocery store. 

Looks like he had just left for Chicago and then to Indianapolis and then back to New York. But after that, he left the state again. Her window to see him would be small.

Her first stop had to be getting the press agent’s contact information. Without that, she’d just have to show up to one of his photo ops and hope to get lucky. That step put her plan back by several days as she had to wait to get into her office.

Finally, it was Thursday, her suspension was over and she was raring to go. She strode into the office, ready and willing to work. Halfway into unpacking her bag, an intern stopped by to drop off a coffee and a bagel for her.

“Thanks, Jimmy,” she said. He was the only intern she was on a first-name basis with. He was generally a sweet kid, polite to her if only because he had to be and shaping up to be a fine journalist. However, when he didn’t walk away to continue delivering breakfast, she stopped and looked up at him.

“Um, Miss Thomas, is it true that you went against Mr. Werner’s orders and went to the front lines?” She sighed softly. Her exploits had made their way around the rumor mill and was now getting back to her. Obviously, something had gotten twisted along the way.

“Werner never said to not go to the front lines. I just… skipped out on my flight. That’s it,” she said with a shrug.

“Me and the other interns still think it was really brave of you,” Jimmy said in a rush as though he was afraid she was going to stop him. He was clutching onto the bag of pastries for dear life in one hand, obviously nervous to say such a thing to her face. Evelyn’s cheeks started heating up.

“Oh, no, Jimmy-”

“Everyone always says that they’d do anything for a story but you actually did! It’s just… Sorry, Miss Thomas,” Jimmy stammered. He whirled around and scuttled away, continuing to deliver breakfast. Evelyn stared after him, his blonde head ducking in submission when Menger berated him for some small mistake.

Despite the obvious rumors that had swirled around about her, she couldn’t help the swell of pride in her chest. The interns looked up to her. Not Johnson, not Lionel or Menger. Her.

Riding on this wave of pride, Evelyn sat in her chair and started to make her calls. First was to an old acquaintance from college who directed her to another reporter for The Chronicle. From there, she played phone tag for a few hours with the press agent and the press agent’s assistant. When she managed to finally get him on the phone, he was receptive to her ideas.

She did have a knack for sweet-talking which she used to get the press agent to give her a backstage pass to the show the next time he was in town with the promise of a favor later on down the road. He even decided to give her a personal thirty minute interview if she proved herself competent and professional. All that was left was to convince Werner to let her run the story.

“Mr. Werner, sir, I have a story-”

“On what?” he asked, staring at a piece of paper in his hands. Evelyn stepped further into the office, clutching her notepad in both hands.

“Captain America.” Werner arched a white eyebrow at her before rolling his eyes.

“We already ran a story on him, darling. What can you bring to the table?” Her first thought was to throw out Bucky’s name and his relation to Rogers. But she hesitated. Was she really going to manipulate a personal connection to secure a story? If she did, she’d truly be the sellout journalist Phillips accused her of being.

“I got a backstage pass and an interview slot with him,” Evelyn said. This didn’t seem to convince Werner so she added, “I get thirty minutes with him. I have two weeks to prepare the questions and do my research.”

Werner stared at her, finally setting down whatever document he was reading. After gazing at her for a few moments, he sighed.

“Evelyn, listen. I like you. I do. But I can’t keep vetting your stories if they don’t have any real substance. Your article on the 107th was a success but not every story is going to be like that and that’s okay.” Evelyn took a deep breath just as Werner was going to shoo her out of his office.

“I met his best friend in Italy,” she blurted out before she could stop herself. “He and I… he was very receptive to my questions. I can use that as an in and see the real Captain America. Not the glitz and the glamor, but the real him.”

Werner sighed again. From his end, he was doing her favors with every assignment he gave her and every story he let her run. And here she was, after everything that had happened, asking for another favor. It was understandable but Evelyn still didn’t like his perspective on things.

“Do what you need to do to stay out of the others’ hair. I don’t want this office to melt down because my reporters are jealous of each other,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir,” Evelyn breathed. She turned to leave but Werner called after her again.

“If you find that it’s easier to do your work at home, you can do that as well.” It didn’t sound much like an option and more of a request. Evelyn nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

\---

The show had gone spectacularly. The crowd was cheering, parents and kids alike. It was all too glittery for Evelyn’s taste, however. She sat in the wings with her press pass around her neck along with her camera. Her hands were in her lap and she was picking at her nails nervously.

Steve Rogers was the first one off stage, immediately bypassing her and the press agent in favor of retreating further backstage. The press agent, whom she’d been instructed to call Buddy, chased after him and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Steve, c’mon. I promised this lovely lady here an interview with you!” Buddy announced. Evelyn gave an awkward wave and a small smile. Steve nodded at her before removing his helmet. His hair was mussed underneath. Buddy was quick to promise her that they could have a stylist down here to fix it. Evelyn quickly waved away the suggestion.

“I’ll just use a photo from the performance, it’ll be alright,” she said. Steve was giving her a smile but it was all professional. Underneath, she could very clearly see that he’d rather be anywhere else than talking to another reporter. “Evelyn Thomas, New York Times,” she introduced, sticking out her hand.

“Steve Rogers.” They stood awkwardly for a moment, examining each other. Buddy was glancing in between them eagerly.

“Um, Buddy, could you give us a few minutes?” Evelyn asked.

“Oh! Of course!” When he strode away, both of them exhaled slightly with relief. Evelyn could see why Steve didn’t want to be around him; he was grating throughout the entire performance and was overly eager to get any good press out under his name.

“Sir, I’m going to be completely honest here,” Evelyn started. Steve’s shoulders tensed up again. “I’m not here to report on you. I’m here because… I’m a friend- well, kind of a friend... I met your friend, Bucky, overseas.”

Steve’s eyes grew wide and he gestured for her to come closer. He was a tall, broad man and she had to tilt her head back to make eye contact with him when she was this close. His gaze flicked behind her before he looked over his shoulder.

“In twenty minutes, the stagehands start packing up. Meet me over by the black car at the edge of the lot. It’s next to the costume car. If anyone stops you, tell them that I asked for you specifically.” Evelyn nodded, committing the details to memory. Without another word, he turned and strode away. She stared after him, wondering what exactly would be waiting for her when she met up with him.

Evelyn managed to evade Buddy as she made her way back to the parking lot behind the theater, much to her relief; that was something she certainly didn’t want to deal with. 

The air was balmy as she stepped out of the backstage door, a slight breeze hitting her in the face. She ducked off to the side of the building and scanned the parking lot. There were several trucks and cars but she spotted the car where she was supposed to meet Steve at the opposite end of the lot.

She watched as stagehands packed up the dancers’ costumes and various props. The operation was efficient and quick; Evelyn doubted they’d have much time to talk before Steve had to leave.

After a quick check of her watch, she started striding towards the opposite edge of the lot. That was something she’d learned in her time as a journalist: if you looked confident in what you were doing, you could get away with quite a bit.

Even as she approached the car Steve described to her, the stagehand packing away the costumes shut the back of the truck and walked back towards the theater. She breathed a slight sigh of relief as she caught a glimpse of Steve leaning against the car. He had ditched the star-spangled uniform in favor of regular clothes. He now looked much more comfortable.

“Miss Thomas,” he greeted with a nod.

“Mister Rogers,” she said. He stood at almost a foot taller than her when he straightened up from leaning against the car. His gaze flitted around the parking lot, making sure that they were alone.

“You said that you met Bucky?” Steve asked, returning his attention to her. His gaze was sharp and intense.

“I did. He told me to come find you, make sure that you were okay.” That brought a grin to his face.

“Bucky was always taking care of me,” he remarked. Evelyn nodded, her heart surging in her chest. She could see that from miles away. It was evident their friendship ran deep. She ached for a relationship like that.

“He says he misses you. He also wants you to know that he’s okay too.”

“Thank you,” Steve said. His heart was in his eyes. She nodded once more, suddenly at a loss for words. She’d done her part; she’d delivered the message. What now? The thought of going home alone to her empty apartment was causing the ache in her chest to intensify.

“Are- are you leaving town after this?” she asked. Steve sighed and shrugged.

“I’ve got a whole tour planned. Gotta… do my part,” he said with his eyes downcast. His heart obviously wasn’t in his performances. Evelyn could only wonder what his story was. She made her decision then and there. She started to rattle off her address, noticing how Steve’s head jerked up. At his surprised stare, she said it again.

“I’d like to keep talking with you. As a friend of a friend,” she clarified. A breeze blew across the parking lot, ruffling her dark hair and lifting the collar of Steve’s tan coat. She waited with bated breath for his answer. His gaze flitted towards the theater where people, presumably stagehands, had started to exit.

“Would you like to join the tour?” Steve suddenly asked without looking at her. Evelyn jerked back slightly with surprise. He turned and made eye contact with her, a small, friendly smile coming over his face. “As a friend of a friend.”

Evelyn felt as though they were experiencing the same emotions. Displeasure, longing for something more, unhappiness with their lives. Missing the same person, albeit in different ways. Something inside her reached out to Steve and was surprised to find a kindred spirit.

Maybe Evelyn was swayed by seeing the emotion on his face. Maybe she wanted a part of Bucky to hang on to. Maybe the urge to leave her office again was too strong to resist.

“Absolutely.”

\---

“Thomas, don’t photograph anything from today. I don’t even want a quote about it to make into an article,” the press agent growled after Steve was booed off the stage. She was in Italy again although much farther south than she had been. It was the first time Steve had performed for an audience of soldiers and, needless to say, it didn’t go well.

Evelyn walked backstage where Steve was sitting, head hung low.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” she said. She looked over his shoulder at what he was drawing. A monkey on a unicycle in the Captain America uniform. A chuckle escaped her before she was able to stop it.

At first, Evelyn counted herself lucky to be on the road with Steve but, as he had pointed out, neither of them were where they wanted to be. All Evelyn wanted was to report on real news, things that were happening now that impacted people’s lives. She wanted to be photographing more important things than Captain America holding a baby.

Over the past few months, touring around the country, her and Steve had gotten close. It was hard not to get close with him. He was a nice guy who had stood up for her on multiple occasions. Their shared affection for one Bucky Barnes also brought them closer. Steve shared many stories that caused Evelyn to wish even more that Bucky was with them.

Someone behind them cleared their throat. They both turned and Evelyn immediately recognized who it was. Steve carried her picture everywhere he went.

“Hello,” Peggy Carter said softly. Evelyn looked at Steve. He was awestruck looking at her; in their few months together, she’d never seen him like that.

“Hi. What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Officially, I’m not here at all.” That sentence piqued Evelyn’s interest. She held herself back from asking for the reason behind it. This wasn’t exactly the right moment. Peggy looked at Evelyn as if just noticing she was there. She held out her hand. “Peggy Carter.”

“Evelyn Thomas. I’m with the New York Times. I’ve been, uh, touring with Steve,” she said, gesturing slightly to him.

“Oh,” Peggy said, leaning back a bit, “Why?”

“Honestly?” Evelyn asked. Peggy nodded. “I don’t know anymore.”

“Both stuck as dancing monkeys, eh?” Peggy asked, her eyes falling to where Steve’s sketchbook sat open.

“At least Brandt has me doing this. Phillips would’ve had me stuck in a lab,” Steve said. It was a familiar sentiment to Evelyn. Late night talks between them had divulged a lot of unpleasant feelings and resentment towards the authority figures in their lives. Evelyn looked out at the pouring rain, considering making her exit as Peggy and Steve conversed. Being anywhere else felt a whole lot better than being right there.

“Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano,” Peggy stated, her voice growing louder to be heard over the din of the rain. “Two hundred men went up against him and less than fifty returned.”

Evelyn stared at the ambulance that was unloading a wounded soldier. It looked as though part of his leg was gone. An involuntary shiver went down her spine.

“Your audience contained what was left of the 107th. The rest were killed or captured.”

Her blood ran cold. Steve and Evelyn looked at each other in disbelief before looking back up at Peggy.

“The 107th?” he asked. They both stood and dashed out into the rain, calling for Peggy to follow. All the while, Evelyn’s heart was pounding and she was praying.  _ Not him… please, not him. _

They ran right up to Colonel Phillips, pushing past several other officers to get there.

“Well, if it isn’t the Star-Spangled Man With A Plan. And my least favorite journalist,” he added upon seeing Evelyn.

“We need the casualty list from Azzano,” Steve said.

“You don’t get to give me orders, son.” Evelyn pushed forwards, her hair dripping onto the floor of the tent.

“We just need one name. Sergeant James Barnes from the 107th,” she said placatingly. Phillips pointed up to Peggy who had remained silent up until that point. She didn’t look abashed at all underneath the force of Phillips’ gaze. Evelyn admired that.

“You and I are gonna have a conversation later that you won’t enjoy,” he said.

“Sergeant James Barnes,” Evelyn repeated, “You know who he is. Can you please just-”

“I don’t recall giving you permission to speak,” Phillips snapped, turning his steely gaze on Evelyn. He glanced between the three of them. They must’ve been a truly sorry sight because he lowered his eyes and turned, flipping through a stack of papers. “I have signed more of these condolence letters today than I would care to count…”

Evelyn was waiting with bated breath, tugging at the already fraying sleeves of her coat. Phillips turned with regret on his face. Already, her heart was breaking.

“But I did sign a letter for him. I’m sorry.” She let out a shaky sigh and nodded. Tears were filling her eyes and quickly overflowing onto her cheeks. She tried to stop her chin from trembling as Phillips looked at her with genuine sorrow.

“Evelyn-” he started. All Evelyn could do was shake her head and dash back out into the rain, heading for her tent. She wanted to be alone with her grief. She only got halfway there before someone grabbed her arm, yanking her to a stop. The rain was petering to a stop as she turned around, the world still blurry from her tears.

“Steve is going to Austria,” Peggy said, her grip on Evelyn’s arm surprisingly strong.

“What?” she asked.

“He’s going on a rescue mission. Come with me.” Evelyn followed Peggy to the tent behind the stage where Steve was packing up several items. He and Peggy were having a heated discussion about him leaving but Evelyn felt as though they were missing something important.

“You’re not leaving me behind,” she said as Steve threw a bag into the back of a truck.

“You’re certainly not coming with me,” he huffed.

“I’ve seen more of the battlefield than you have, Steve. I’m coming.” He stared at her and she glared back, her green gaze intense and unwavering. This was her chance to get back out there but, more importantly, this was her chance to see if Bucky was really dead.

“If you’re both determined to go,” Peggy interrupted, “At least let me help.”

Peggy’s help included getting Evelyn clothes that actually fit her, along with a helmet and several weapons. When asked if she knew how to fire a gun, Evelyn hefted the Bowie knife she’d been given. Peggy insisted that she take two pistols anyways.

Her help also included getting Howard Stark to fly them over enemy territory. They were parachuting in. Now, that part made Evelyn more than a little nervous. But after being shown thoroughly how a parachute operated, she felt confident she could operate one without falling to her death.

“The HYDRA base is in Krausberg, tucked between these two mountain ranges. It’s a factory of some kind,” Peggy explained.

“We should be able to drop you right on the doorstep,” Howard called from the cockpit.

“As close as you can get would be great,” Evelyn called back. She meandered her way up to the front where Stark was piloting, staunchly ignoring the conversation happening behind her. She knew how it felt to be so far from someone you cared about for so long; she might as well let them catch up.

Suddenly, the plane shook and what sounded like thunder rolled through the sky. They were being fired at. Evelyn scrambled to the back of the plane and followed suit when she saw Steve putting on his parachute.

“Get back here! We’re taking you all the way in!” Peggy shouted as Steve opened the door. A colossal rush of cold wind hit Evelyn directly in the face. She breathed in once, twice… she could do this.

“Once we’re clear, you turn this thing around and get the hell out of here!” Steve called back. “Evelyn, go!”

She didn’t jump so much as she fell out of the plane, arms spread wide just like she was told to. She fell for maybe three seconds before deploying her chute. Her body was jerked up as the chute slowed her descent. It wasn’t so bad, she thought as she guided herself down to the ground, it was almost like a rollercoaster. 

Once she hit the ground, she looked up to see Steve several hundred feet above her. Evelyn swiftly unbuckled herself from the chute and crouched down behind a bush just in case as she waited for Steve to join her.

He landed in another clearing a ways away from her and she rushed to join him. Once she did, he held up a device that looked like a handheld radio.

“We’ll use this to call Peggy and Stark back to come get us,” he explained. Evelyn nodded and pulled out both of her pistols, checking to make sure they were both loaded.

“Let me take the lead, okay? If I get you killed, Bucky won’t ever forgive me,” Steve stated as she tucked her pistols away.

“If you get me killed, I won’t ever forgive you,” Evelyn retorted. Steve nodded and led them through the forest. More than once, he ordered her to drop behind a bush or duck behind a tree. It was the climb up to ridge all over again although this time, Evelyn felt as though she was much more prepared.

Getting into the base seemed far too easy for Evelyn’s taste. She wasn’t expecting to just be able to hop on a truck, wait for Steve to kick out the HYDRA soldiers, and climb in. She certainly didn’t expect Steve to easily and silently take out every enemy they came across. Surprising herself, she managed to keep up with him for most of their journey through the factory, with minimal help climbing over railings and dashing up stairs.

The whole base carried a menacing air to it. Despite it being sparsely populated due to the late hour, Evelyn felt as though she was being constantly watched. A shiver went down her spine with every corner they peeked around. She ran through the base, starting and stopping, hiding behind corners and pillars, with one hand on her holster at all times. It didn’t do much to appease her anxieties.

A small click, a clank, maybe even a whisper. Whatever it was, it caught Evelyn’s attention. She turned her back on Steve to peer into the dark hallway behind them. There was nothing there. When she whirled back around, Steve was gone.

“Steve?” she hissed. “Steve?” A little bit louder that time but still no answer. Evelyn’s heart was hammering in her chest. Fear threatened to overtake her. She was in enemy territory with no way to call for someone. Even if she found where they kept their prisoners, how was she going to get them out and have them help her?

One thing at a time. Get your bearings. Evelyn pulled out one of her pistols and started forwards, keeping her footfalls as light as possible. She was managing to keep her wits about her, checking around every corner before she rounded it. So far, she hadn’t run into anyone.

It wasn’t until she found a long tall room that she discovered a HYDRA soldier. His back was to her as she approached. She unsheathed her knife silently and started forwards.

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. There were bars over holes in the flooring and, in those holes, were men. The prisoners. Bucky could be here. That thought renewed her strength as she quickly but quietly rushed up to the one guard.

Evelyn brought the hilt of her knife down as hard as she could on the back of the soldier’s head three times before he stopped moving. He had fallen over one of the sets of bars and the men were staring up at her from below.

“Hey, boys,” she greeted as she unhooked the keyring from the unconscious soldier’s belt.

“‘Boys?’” one of the men repeated. Ignoring him for the moment, she dashed down the hall, peeking around corners, trying to get down to the other level. She pounded down a set of stairs and suddenly she was in the prisoner’s quarters. 

Starting with the cell on her right, she unlocked it and moved down the line as quickly as she could. For a top secret organization, using the same key for all their jail cells seemed a bit stupid.

“Evelyn?” a familiar voice asked when she got to a cell about halfway down. She looked up as she was unlocking the cell and almost cried with relief.

“Dugan,” she breathed. As he rushed to leave his cell, she yanked him into a hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “How did you even get here?”

“I’m here with Captain America,” she said shortly, handing the keys off to another soldier who took over her task of unlocking the cells.

“Who?” Gabe asked. Evelyn waved a hand at him, signaling that it was a long story. She had more important matters to deal with than explaining how Captain America came to be. Her gaze was flitting wildly around the room as more and more soldiers from all different militaries flooded the walkway.

“Where’s Bucky?”

“There’s an isolation ward. No one’s ever come back from it. They took him when he was too weak to continue working,” Dugan said solemnly. Evelyn grit her teeth, fighting against the tears that were stinging her eyes again. Not now. She had a new mission now: getting these men out. If Bucky was to be found at all, she had to trust that Steve would find him.

“Let’s go!” she called to the group. “Give ‘em hell!” The men shouted along with her before rushing out of the doors. Evelyn was practically caught up in the wave of soldiers running in front of and behind her. Everyone around her was so much taller than her that it was impossible for her to see where the group was heading. She didn’t even notice they had come upon HYDRA soldiers until she heard shots fired.

The few guards that were inside the building were no match for hundreds of furious soldiers. They made it all the way outside before they faced any real resistance. Seems as though Schmidt had called for backup, Evelyn realized grimly.

Evelyn burst outside only to be yanked aside by her arm. She stumbled and tripped but she was pulled up, managing to stay on her feet. Dugan had been the one to pull her aside. Where she had been running, the ground was peppered with bullet holes.

“Thanks,” she breathed. Turning back to where soldiers were still streaming out of the doors, Evelyn pulled one of her pistols out of its holster.

“Have you ever even fired a gun before?” Dugan called. Evelyn looked up at him and caught motion behind him in the darkness underneath the tank they were standing next to. She pushed Dugan to the side and fired three times. A HYDRA soldier fell forwards and landed at their feet with four even holes in his chest.

“I have now,” she said.

“I think I just fell in love with you,” Dugan chuckled. Evelyn couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“I’m flattered,” she said.

“No, I’m serious. Marriage is on the table.” Evelyn barked out a quick laugh before the shots and shouts drew her back to the moment.

They raced forwards before Dugan spotted something of interest. He called her over and helped her climb up onto a tank, open and obviously abandoned by its operator.

“Think you can help me drive this beauty?” Dugan asked.

Evelyn had never even seen the inside of a tank before now and now she was about to help pilot one. Well, there’s a first time for everything. She shrugged and gave him an affirmative. They were attempting to figure out the controls when someone else hopped in. Evelyn immediately drew her Bowie knife, ready to take on whoever was trying to stop them.

“Whoa, there,” Gabe called, holding up his hands in surrender. Evelyn huffed and lowered the knife.

“You’re here to help?” she asked.

“And James is up top,” Gabe said, gesturing above them. Evelyn had no idea who James was, but if Gabe trusted him, it was good enough for her. “That one. Zundung.”

“You speak German?” Dugan asked as he pressed the button Gabe indicated. The tank roared to life.

“Three semesters at Howard. Switched to French. The girls are much cuter,” Gabe chortled. Evelyn gave him a sideways glance and shook her head. Dugan moved the tank forwards at full speed, letting out a holler. Evelyn couldn’t help but laugh as she rocked side to side in her seat, trying to keep from falling onto the floor.

After others caught on and started using HYDRA’s weapons against them, the fight was over in a matter of minutes. Dugan and many of the newly liberated prisoners wanted to get the hell out of dodge as quickly as possible but Evelyn managed to convince them to stop in a clearing about a hundred yards from the factory.

Dugan and Gabe were holding onto Evelyn’s promise of Steve delivering Bucky to them but, as the minutes passed and passed, she was unsure that she could deliver on that promise. They had been waiting for half an hour, hundreds of soldiers, just milling about in the forest, still on edge and jumpy.

A soldier she’d met named Jim Morita was keeping watch on the dirt road that led from the base just in case they came down that way. She’d checked in with him a few times but he hadn’t seen anyone come or go from the base since it exploded.

Evelyn leaned against a tree at the edge of the clearing with a heavy sigh. If they didn’t show soon, she wasn’t sure she could keep a handle on the already restless soldiers. But it was more than that. If they weren’t coming, then that meant that both Steve and Bucky were dead. Evelyn didn’t know if she could handle that kind of grief.

Evelyn slid down the tree until she hit the ground, pillowy with pine needles underneath her. She sighed and put her head in her hands. Was this survivor’s guilt? She had made it out but Steve, Captain America, the nation’s new beacon of hope, one of her best friends, hadn’t. 

Evelyn looked up when soldiers at the edge of the clearing started stirring but she didn’t move. Her heart was too heavy in her chest for her to call for them to wait. They weren’t coming.

Then a soldier shouted something that was unintelligible to her. She looked up slowly to see a familiar red, white, and blue shield on the back of a soldier broader and taller than the rest. Steve. He’d made it. But did…?

And then she saw him. He looked like he’d been through hell. There were bruises on his face and he was barely able to stand on his own two feet.

“Bucky,” she whispered. She scrambled up and started running to him.

“Bucky!” she called. He turned towards her, an expression of awe coming over his face. She stopped just short of running into him. Bucky stretched a hand out to her and ghosted it over her cheek. She grabbed his hand in hers, relishing his touch.

He reached out with his other arm and brought her into a crushing hug. One of his hands was on the back of her head, stroking her hair. Evelyn clutched onto him with equal ferocity. She felt his chest hitch with uneven breaths and, when she leaned back, his eyes were glassy with tears.

Evelyn brought his face down to her level and gave him a gentle kiss. After what he’d been through, he deserved for her to be gentle. Apparently, Bucky didn’t feel the same way as he quickly deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her in even closer.

Breathless, they separated but leaned their foreheads together. Evelyn had never been so elated in her life. She smiled. Bucky was here. He was alive. He was breathing. He was holding her.

“When I told you to stay out of trouble, I meant it,” Bucky said, as he leaned back slightly from her. The moonlight washed all the color out of his eyes but it didn’t change the fact that they were breathtaking as always. Evelyn chuckled and stroked his cheek, swiping her thumb across his cheekbone.

“And I told you to stay safe.”

“Looks like we’ll both have to try harder next time,” Bucky said with a small smile. Evelyn admired him for a moment before they were interrupted. Steve walked up and held up a device that had obviously been shot.

“Don’t tell me that’s the-”

“Yeah.” Evelyn sighed, letting her hands fall from Bucky’s shoulders. He still kept one arm around her waist as they both turned to Steve.

“Well… let’s get walking then.”


	6. To Love and To Suffer

_“Be wise and remember that love and suffering come from the same household.” - Adonis_

* * *

“You here to tend to my wounds?” Bucky asked as Evelyn entered the medical tent. She grinned at him softly before walking over and sitting next to him on the bed. She reached up and gently turned his face so they were making eye contact. The bruises on his face were nasty, blossoming in ugly purples and blues along his jaw and around his eye. She had to remind herself that they’d heal to quell the twisting in her stomach.

“They’re letting everyone who was captured and involved in the escape take leave in London,” Evelyn said, letting her hand drop.

“For how long?” Bucky asked. She chuckled.

“Now, that, I don’t know.” 

Bucky grinned and raised his eyebrows at her.

“You ever gonna stop eavesdropping on other people’s conversations?” Evelyn flushed a little at the accusation but she said nothing to defend herself. She tilted her head and smiled at him. He sighed, rolling his eyes and grinning. Bucky grabbed her hand and raised it to his lips. “You wouldn’t be my best girl if you weren’t curious.”

“Oh, is that what I am?” Evelyn teased. Bucky smirked, leaning in close to kiss her temple. Evelyn couldn’t help the dopey smile spreading over her face. She hadn’t even told him the best part yet. “My boss said that, after everything that happened, I should take some time off while he decides if I should be able to keep my job.”

“What are you going to do with that time?”

“Find a place to stay in London with a handsome sergeant. What do you think he’ll say when I ask him?” Evelyn asked, turning to Bucky. His smile could’ve lit up New York City. He leaned in once, twice, three times to kiss her.

“I think he’d absolutely say yes.”

\---

“Almond Joy?”

“Yeah!”

 _“Almond Joy?”_ Evelyn was staring at the candy bar in Bucky’s hand with disgust. They were standing in the candy aisle of a local grocery store with the cart between them. They’d been in that aisle for almost ten minutes while Bucky perused the different types of candy he hadn’t been able to enjoy on base. When he did finally pick one, she was aghast.

“Okay, missy. What candy do you wanna buy?” he asked. Evelyn immediately picked up a blue and red box. “Licorice?” he asked in disbelief.

“What’s wrong with licorice?”

“It tastes like wax, that’s what’s wrong with it.” 

Evelyn huffed and let her hand fall to her side. Her eyes roved over the stacks of candy that Bucky had passed over in favor of a disgusting Almond Joy. Something stuck out to her. A couple of things did actually. She surreptitiously placed a packet in the bottom of their cart, shoving it underneath the produce and meats.

“Hey, Bucky,” she said as she grabbed another box, “Wanna kiss?” Bucky turned, half eager and half confused before he saw the box she was holding. He sauntered up to her and grabbed the box of Hershey’s Kisses out of her hand.

“How’d you know that Kisses are one of my favorites?” he asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Evelyn shrugged, turning to walk back to the cart.

“Lucky guess.” As Evelyn wheeled the cart away towards the checkout line, she could feel Bucky’s gaze on her. A small pleasant shiver went down her back.

It didn’t take them long to get back to their temporary apartment. It was being sublet to them under the table, meaning low rent, meaning affordable for both a sergeant and a photojournalist. It was also small but that didn’t bother either of them in the least.

“I got this, Evie,” Bucky said as they let their load of groceries down on the kitchen table. Evelyn wrapped her arms around Bucky’s waist and leaned her forehead on his back. After a few moments, she let go of Bucky and meandered over to one of the bags, grabbing her licorice and one of the Cokes they bought.

“This’ll be done soon and then we can relax,” Bucky called after her. Evelyn smirked to herself. They’d be relaxing alright.

Evelyn was sitting on the floor in front of the couch with her Coke and her licorice sitting on the coffee table in front of her. She was listening to the sounds flowing from the radio and Bucky in the kitchen, putting the rest of the groceries away.

“Excuse me, doll?” he called. She looked back up, knowing full well what he had found. He appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, holding a packet of Lik-M-Aid. He had a smirk on his face and his eyebrows were raised. “I don’t recall putting this in the groceries.”

Evelyn gestured for Bucky to come closer. He sat down on the floor next to her and watched as she tore the package open and dipped her finger in. It was the strawberry flavor, her favorite. She popped her sugar-coated finger in her mouth and licked the sugar off, grinning at Bucky afterwards.

“You know that stuff is pure sugar, right?” Bucky asked. His voice had become lower and more gravelly but other than that, he seemed unbothered.

“Exactly,” Evelyn stated as she offered the package to him. Bucky smirked before taking a bit on his own finger and sticking it in his mouth. When he dipped back in for more sugar, Evelyn grabbed his wrist. She stuck his finger in her mouth, swirling her tongue around the digit, making sure to get all the sugar off.

When she was satisfied, she gave Bucky his hand back with a devilish smirk. He was staring at her, pupils blown wide with lust. His own grin was much more mischievous than hers. A low heat was simmering in her body as Bucky reached into the packet of sugar once more.

“Sorry, baby girl, I don’t think I caught that. Wanna try again?” Did she ever. Evelyn dove down, sucking and licking at his finger once more. Her heart jumped at being called ‘baby girl.’ What little restraint Bucky had watching Evelyn suck away at his finger broke. He removed his finger and quickly covered her mouth in a searing kiss. They finally separated, chests heaving and cheeks flushed. Bucky smiled at her and leaned in closer, just brushing their noses together.

“I still need to put the food in the fridge,” he said breathlessly. Evelyn wrapped her hand around his uniform tie.

“I think the food can wait,” she said lowly before yanking him forwards and kissing him forcefully. She stood up, pulling Bucky up by the tie and leading him into the bedroom. The door closed behind them and didn’t open for the rest of the night.

\---

Evelyn slowly came back to the world. No alarm went off, no one knocked on the door, the chill didn’t seep into her blankets; her body simply told her it was time to wake. She felt that her face was nuzzled into the crook of Bucky’s neck. His arms were wrapped around her loosely, his chest falling and rising steadily.

Evelyn opened her eyes and inched back to get a good look at his face. God, he was handsome. His jawline was carved out of marble. She knew that when he opened his eyes they’d be a gorgeous icy blue. His lips, she knew from experience, were soft and perfectly shaped. How’d she get so lucky?

She scooted backwards slowly until she had fully left the warmth of his arms, making sure not to take the covers with her. Evelyn rolled out of bed and stretched. She looked down and flushed, having forgotten they’d fallen asleep completely naked.

Golden sunlight streamed in through the window next to the bed and illuminated the old, warped floorboards under her feet. When she stepped on them to grab her pajamas out of the dresser, they were warm. The heater in their apartment was working overtime in the other room with a wheezing sound.

For a moment, Evelyn gazed out of the window. People walked down below, going about their day, completely unaware of the contentment and happiness growing in her chest. At that moment, she felt truly blessed as though some god was watching over her and gifted her this morning.

A quick check of the clock as Evelyn slipped on her pajamas showed that it was no later than eight in the morning. She exited the bedroom, sidestepping their clothes from the previous night with a smile, and gently closed the door behind her. 

She hoped that these walls were thick. Among other reasons, she was going to turn on the radio while she made breakfast and didn’t want to wake Bucky until it was done. While Evelyn owned a rather large radio back in New York, she’d settle for the small one on the kitchen counter. She leaned her elbows on the tile and switched through the channels.

This early in the day, there were none of the soap operas or plays or live music performances; it was mostly news. On any other day, she’d gladly listen to the news but it would only serve to make her upset at that moment. 

Brushing back a piece of her brown hair, her green eyes stared off in the middle distance as she listened. It took her a couple of channels to reach one she was satisfied with. The soft sounds of trumpet and violins flowed throughout the small kitchen. Evelyn sighed happily and set about making breakfast.

She kept everything as quiet as she could but she couldn’t help but hum along to the music. She swayed from side to side in time with the beat. Evelyn cracked two eggs into the bowl of flour and milk she had mixed together, the sound adding to the melody of the glowing morning.

A few lines escaped her, soft and sweet in her musical voice. She could hear her brother’s voice singing along with her as they sang for their friends as teens, all of their smiles encouraging.

Evelyn did miss Will from time to time, she thought as she mixed her batter. He hadn’t been able to be enlisted due to his leg. When they were in their late teens, Will had gotten into a car accident and it crushed his right leg. With pins and stitches and casts and braces, he’d managed to walk without much of a limp but his leg was never the same after. She wondered what Will would think of Bucky and immediately chuckled.

Will would say something snarky and Bucky would respond in kind. They’d be the best of friends after that. When this was all over, Evelyn would like to introduce them.

She slowly came out of her reverie to the sounds of Chet Baker’s voice coming through on the radio.

_“I fall in love too easily… I fall in love too fast…”_

Evelyn sang along softly, adding in harmonies and humming where it was appropriate. After she flipped the pancake she’d been working on, she backed up and continued swaying, singing a little louder. The song ended and changed to something just as sweet. It was as if the radio operator knew of her blissful morning and was doing their best to keep it going.

For both of them, Evelyn made five pancakes knowing that she would only eat two. There was leftover batter if Bucky wanted more. She placed them all in a stack and went to wake up Bucky. Surprisingly, when she entered the room, he was sitting up on the bed, still blinking the sleep away from his eyes.

“Good morning,” she greeted.

“Your voice is beautiful,” Bucky said, his voice gravelly and low. A smile spread over Evelyn’s face as she padded over to give him a sweet, soft kiss. His hand on her cheek was gentle as was the arm that wound its way around her waist as she straightened up. Bucky nuzzled his face into her stomach. Evelyn suppressed a giggle as he hugged her middle. She stroked his hair a few times before leaning back.

“It’s time for breakfast. I’ll meet you in the kitchen when you get dressed,” she said, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“I have to get all the way dressed?” Bucky asked, looking up at her with those beautiful blue eyes.

“I’m wearing my pajamas,” she pointed out. Bucky finally stood, towering over her and cupping her face in his hands.

“And you look adorable in them.” He kissed her once more before moving to the dresser. Evelyn went back to the kitchen, humming happily along to the next song that had come on the radio. She started preparing her own plate, leaving Bucky to make his pancake as he wished. She spread butter and sugar over her own just as he entered the kitchen.

“We have jam, syrup, butter, sugar, whatever you want,” Evelyn said as Bucky reached for the pancakes.

“You’re a doll,” Bucky said before he leaned in quickly to peck Evelyn on the cheek. Where he’d kissed her tingled pleasantly. Where he laid his hands on her waist grew warm. Even just being across the table from him as they ate filled her with a sense of belonging.

They quietly discussed their plans for that day over the music that was still flowing throughout the room. Bucky suggested they stay in bed all day. Evelyn chuckled at that and admitted it sounded nice. When they were both finished, Bucky stood but instead of collecting their dishes, he held his hand out to Evelyn who took it.

He pulled her out of her chair and led her to the center of the kitchen. Bucky stepped close and put one hand on her waist and grabbed her other hand. Evelyn leaned her head against his chest and swayed with him, turning in a slow circle. She wanted to stay in this golden moment forever.

One of her favorite songs started and she began humming along. Soon her voice rose to sing in time with Margaret Whiting’s, rising and falling in time with the violin. Bucky smiled and pressed his forehead to hers, listening to her sing.

_“And time after time you’ll hear me say that I’m so lucky to be loving you…”_

\---

Evelyn was woken by the sound of frantic mumbling. She had fallen asleep with Bucky against her back but he had rolled away from her, leaving a cold space between them. Slowly, she sat up and looked around the room. It was dark save for the illumination of a streetlight streaming orange light through the window.

She turned to her left to see Bucky still laying down. The mumbling was coming from him. His forehead was beaded with sweat and his hands were balled into fists on top of the covers. He was obviously deep in the throes of a nightmare.

“Bucky,” Evelyn said. She reached out to touch him but hesitated. What if she just made things worse?

“Barnes… 355-”

“Bucky,” she called once more. She kept calling his name, her heart beginning to beat faster and faster, to no avail before finally touching his shoulder lightly. He shrunk away from her but didn’t wake. She rolled out of bed and stumbled to the other side where Bucky lay.

“Bucky, wake up,” she practically shouted, kneeling so her face was level with his. Evelyn grabbed his shoulder and shook him. That seemed to do the trick. Bucky bolted upright in the bed, the covers tangled in his legs, his chest heaving. He looked wildly around the room until he found Evelyn, staring at her with unseeing eyes. “It’s me, Bucky. It’s me.”

“Evie?” he croaked. Evelyn nodded. His hand fell to her cheek as though making sure she was actually there.

“You were having a nightmare,” she said softly. Bucky gulped and nodded. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. “It’s okay, you’re here.” She gripped his hand where it still lay on her cheek. 

The frantic look in his eyes was still there; he was still haunted by whatever he went through in the isolation ward. In her chest, Evelyn could feel her heart break for him. Even in the dim light, she could see the tears glistening in his eyes. Her stomach sank to her feet at the sight.

“Will you stay?” he asked in a broken voice. Evelyn nodded. Of course she would. She stood and made her way back to the other side of the bed. Her fingers and toes were cold and tingling as she straightened out the covers and slid underneath them. Her heartbeat had evened out considerably now that he was awake and aware but she still worried. She felt as though this was just the beginning.

Bucky wrapped his arms tightly around her, squeezing once. He was trembling finely all over. She pretended not to notice as he buried his face in her hair. Evelyn clutched onto him just as tightly; he needed to know that she was really there.

Despite her concern and worry, she drifted off a couple of times although it felt like she only closed her eyes momentarily. In those moments, adrift on a sea of darkness, she heard snippets of words and conversations. Real or imagined, she couldn’t tell. 

When she woke for the last time, she felt Bucky untangling from her. He was no longer shaking but the dark circles under his eyes were apparent. Her gaze followed him and, catching her eye, he gave her a hollow grin. As Evelyn sat up, he disappeared into the bathroom.

She might as well get started on breakfast. It had been a long night. It felt like it was going to be a long day too.

\---

Over the next two and a half weeks, any traces of bruises faded from Bucky’s face but the dark circles under his eyes remained. Most of the nights they’d spent together, Bucky had woken up shouting from a nightmare. He’d told Evelyn that he was fine the other nights but she suspected that he just hadn’t slept.

One of those nights where he’d had a nightmare, he’d managed to wake himself up. Evelyn sat upright in their bed and immediately grabbed his hands, pressing them in between her own. Soft physical touch from her seemed to work most of the time. Most of the time. Not all the time.

Bucky had reacted to her touches well, nodding and breathing in time with her just how he had done when she’d had her nightmare. This time, instead of burying his face in her hair as he had taken to doing, when they lay back down, he’d scooted downwards and pressed his ear right above her heart. She had to fight back tears when he sighed with relief.

He hadn’t described his nightmares to her but they’d transformed. At first, he repeated the same things over and over again: his name, rank, and serial number as soldiers were taught to do. Now, however, he shouted for his friends, his family, and Evelyn.

Over and over, he called for her. Over and over, she was there for him to wake up to. Over and over, her heart shattered into pieces for him.

He’d taken to napping at odd hours, finding that the daylight in their bedroom helped him realize where he was before and after he slept. He was taking one of those naps when Steve arrived at their apartment.

He was wearing a heavy coat, the weather outside growing substantially more chilly with every passing day. Evelyn invited him in but made him promise to be quiet.

“He’s still having nightmares?” Steve asked as Evelyn cracked open soft drinks for them both.

“Yeah,” she answered solemnly, setting down the bottle opener. “I don’t know how to help.”

“You’re doing what you can,” Steve said as she placed one bottle in front of him and sat down in the chair across the table. “And you are helping. I can see it. I’ve never seen him as happy as when he’s with you.” That brought a small, sad grin to Evelyn’s face. Steve’s blue gaze saw right through her. It had since day one, when she was determined to not only meet him but also to be his friend. He could see her worry and sadness. 

Steve was Bucky’s best friend but he was also Evelyn’s. Traveling together for months will do that to you, she supposed. She always teased him about not knowing anything about women but he had never had trouble knowing what was going on inside her head.

“We’re all getting together tonight,” Steve said, “Me, Dugan, Gabe, a bunch of others. Whip and Fiddle at eight. I’d like for you and Bucky to come.”

“We finally getting you a date tonight, punk?” Evelyn looked up from where she’d been staring at the table to see Bucky dressed and bright-eyed with a smile on his face. Her heart hiccupped with how good he looked. She stood and walked over to him, wrapping an arm around his waist as he slung an arm over her shoulders. When he was awake and putting on a brave face, it was easy for her to try and convince herself that everything was fine.

“With some coaching, I think we’ll be able to manage that,” Evelyn said with a grin.

“Oh, doll, I’ve been trying for years to coach him. I haven’t given up hope yet though,” he chuckled. Evelyn giggled at Steve’s pink ears and stammering. From what she’d seen of him and Peggy Carter, he didn’t need either of their help to find a date. She was about to mention as much but she thought better of it. If he hadn’t mentioned her to Bucky, she wasn’t going to be the one to do it.

“Alright, boys, maybe you two are fine going out looking like this,” she said, gesturing to their clothes, “but I’m going to make myself presentable before we leave.”

“Are you saying that I don’t look good, Evie?” Bucky asked slyly. She turned to him and crossed her arms, ready to fall into their natural rhythm of banter. Before she could respond, however, Steve stood.

“Alright, before you two start getting handsy, I’m gonna head out.”

“I think you’re too late, Steve,” Bucky said as Steve brushed by them and out of the apartment, his ears distinctly pinker than they had been. They both laughed at the loud sound of the door closing. It felt good to see Bucky like this.

“Were you being serious, Bucky?” Evelyn asked, inching closer and closer until her lips were just hovering over his.

“When am I not serious?” he teased before closing the gap between them. Evelyn grinned into their kiss and linked her hands behind his neck. This was progress, she hoped. When Bucky gripped her around the waist and hauled her over his shoulder, she laughed with surprise and delight. It was one of the few genuine laughs that had escaped her in the past few days.

Laughing and kissing and smiling made it all easy to pretend that everything was okay. But pretending could only last for so long. Evelyn shoved that feeling down and chose to focus on her admiration and adoration for the man in front of her instead as they became wrapped up in each other once more.

\---

Bucky and Evelyn were late to arrive at Whip and Fiddle, having wasted more time than they should have in their apartment. As they walked through the door, they heard joyous shouts of their names. Evelyn smiled wide as their group came into view. It was evident that they’d already been drinking as Dugan stood, swaying a bit, before reaching out to shake Bucky’s hand.

“How’s it goin’, Bucky?” he asked.

“Good! You have enough of that stuff yet?” he asked, nodding towards Dugan’s almost empty glass of beer. Dugan laughed and shook his head.

“Not nearly enough!” Evelyn giggled, leaning into Bucky’s side. His arm around her shoulders was sure and warm as he gently stroked her shoulder.

“Here, doll,” Bucky said as he grabbed her coat. She slid it from her shoulders and he placed it on the back of an empty chair. She smoothed down the skirt of her blue dress as she sat down. “I’ll grab us some drinks. What can I get you?”

“A gin and tonic, please,” Evelyn said, turning around in her chair to kiss his cheek. He smiled at her before leaning down to kiss her full on the lips. The soldiers around her hooted but Bucky didn’t pull away. “What’s gotten into you tonight, soldier?” Evelyn mumbled.

“Gotta let them know you’re taken,” Bucky said, his grin charmingly askew with some of her red lipstick on his mouth. Evelyn reached up to wipe it away with her thumb.

“I think they know,” she said. Bucky smiled at her, hovering closely, his gaze roving over her face.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured before backing away. Evelyn couldn’t help but watch as he walked over to the bar. Her mind was on how much she cared for him but also on how well his pants that night hugged his-

“Evelyn!”

“Yes?” she asked, whipping around to face the other soldiers. They were all smirking at her and each other.

“We get that Barnes is attractive but let’s focus up, eh?” one of the soldiers asked, sitting directly to her left. His British accent was distinct as was his uniform. He stuck out his hand. When Evelyn grasped it, he raised it to his mouth to peck a small kiss on. “James Falsworth at your service.”

“Well, I don’t think I’ve ever had someone at my service before,” Evelyn said with exaggeration, fanning herself with her free hand. The other soldiers chuckled, Falsworth included. She recognized him as being in the same cell that Dugan had been in. Jim was also there, as well as a man who introduced himself as Jacques.

She spoke in halting French to Jacques, recalling some memories from her French lessons as a child, with Gabe assisting in translating for both of them. Jacques was a lively man who spoke quickly, far too quickly to Evelyn to pick up on. Eventually, she just settled on smiling and nodding.

Bucky returned and placed her drink in her hand, taking a swig of his own. His hand rubbed up and down her shoulder soothingly. He didn’t seem to follow Jacques’ rapid slew of French either.

One of those times Evelyn smiled and nodded, Jacques started laughing uproariously. Gabe was laughing too, smacking the table a few times. She immediately knit her eyebrows together, wondering what she’d said yes to.

Gabe translated, “He said he wasn’t aware that Barnes had such a beautiful wife!”

Evelyn, who had just taken a sip of her gin and tonic, immediately choked and half-spat her sip back out. The soldiers around her erupted into laughter as well. Evelyn turned bright red and coughed a few times. Behind her, she could hear Bucky laughing as well. She grabbed a napkin from the table and coughed into it, avoiding eye contact with anyone at the table.

Bucky laughed away behind her as she continued to try and clear her throat. Evelyn turned to look up at him, not taking the napkin away from her mouth. He gazed down at her, eyes full of affection. He looked better than he had been since she’d recovered him from the HYDRA base.

“Hey, Buck.” They both looked to see Steve there, still in his uniform, looking as dapper as ever. “Can I see you for a second?” Bucky gave Evelyn another coy smile before nodding and disappearing into the next room with Steve. As they went, every woman’s eye followed them. Evelyn herself was staring after them.

She knew why she had gotten so flustered. All her life, she had never seen marriage as a good idea. Until now.

Jacques reached a hand out to her from across the table, letting it fall between them. He said something and turned to Gabe.

“He says he’s sorry. He didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“No! No, I’m not upset,” she said, putting a smile on her face the best she could. It must’ve been convincing because Jacques’ shoulders loosened with relief. “I was just taken by surprise, that’s all.”

The conversation continued between everyone jovially. When Bucky rejoined them, they were all joking about Dugan’s proposal to Evelyn.

“And then he said that marriage was on the table!” Evelyn laughed loudly. She had finished her gin and tonic and was halfway through another one when Bucky returned. She grabbed his hand, not noticing how he clutched onto her tightly.

“He said what?” Bucky asked, surprise on his face.

“Ah, he was just joking,” Evelyn said as she raised her glass to her lips to take another drink. She looked up at Bucky and winked. The smile he gave her was strained. Her smile fell immediately and she stood. Something in her stomach was twisting violently despite not knowing what was happening. “What’s wrong?” she asked quietly, turning her back to the soldiers so they didn’t see the worry on her face.

“We need to talk later,” Bucky said.

“No, we can talk now,” she said, gripping his hand and walking into the separate, smaller room. Steve was still there, nursing a whiskey. As soon as he saw them, he stood and walked out, not making eye contact with Evelyn as he did so. She turned to face Bucky but he was staunchly avoiding her gaze.

“I’m… Steve is getting together a group of soldiers. A task force, specifically to take down HYDRA,” he said lowly.

“And he asked you to go,” Evelyn said, putting together the pieces. Bucky nodded and looked down at his feet. “And you said yes.” He nodded once more.

Evelyn could feel her eyes burning as they filled with tears. She cursed herself inwardly; she had to be strong, now more than ever. But the thought of Bucky returning to the battlefield twisted her heart in her chest. He had already been through so much. If he barely survived the first time, who’s to say he would survive this time?

She thought back to her first day on base in Italy. She had seen the condolence letters. The thought of receiving one made her sick. If she’d even get one at all. The letter would most likely go to his parents and his sister. Evelyn bit down hard on her lip, certainly getting lipstick on her teeth.

Averting her gaze to the ceiling, she took a deep breath. Finally, she nodded.

“I… If that’s your choice-” she began softly before the lump in her throat choked her, barely audible over the din in the other room. Bucky’s comrades, her new friends, had begun singing a drinking song, completely unaware that her life was falling apart not twenty feet away.

“Evie-” Bucky started. She shook her head. At some point, she’d wrapped her arms around her middle, squeezing tightly as though she’d fall apart if she let go. From the doorway, Steve stepped in and mumbled something to Bucky. Still staring at Evelyn, he nodded as they spoke quietly. Eventually, he turned away and went back into the main room.

“You’re upset with me.”

“I’m… I’m furious,” Evelyn said, a chuckle escaping her. “You know what he’s been through, you found him. And you want to take him back?”

“I-”

“I love him.” Every word felt like a punch in the gut as the words exited her forcefully. She hadn’t realized it herself until that moment. Her chin trembled as the tears finally flowed over. She could feel her heartbeat in her fingers as she reached up to wipe impatiently at her face. The room beyond them had fallen silent, amplifying her sniffles and stuttering breaths.

“I love him too,” Steve said softly.

“Not the way I do,” she stated. Steve prickled at that statement, opening his mouth to say something but, before he could, Evelyn shouldered her way out of the room. She slipped by the table she had been sitting at. They stared at her on her way to the door; she could feel their gazes on her.

As Evelyn made her way past the bar, she ran into another woman. She didn’t even look up as she mumbled a quick apology. Her footsteps were the only sound in the bar as she exited. 

Bursting out of the bar, the cold air felt like a slap in the face. It had stopped raining and a mist had settled in over the abandoned street. The street lights had orange halos around them; there were enough of them that she felt safe walking back to the apartment alone. She took in a deep breath and wrapped her arms around her middle once more. Already she was shivering. Evelyn didn’t make it ten feet down the road before someone called her name.

“Miss Thomas!” She turned and stopped when she saw Peggy Carter chasing after her. She was wearing a flaming red dress that accentuated her figure and black pumps that clacked on the pavement as she trotted up to Evelyn. In one hand, she held up Evelyn’s ratty coat.

“You left it in the bar,” Peggy said. She nodded and took it, gratefully slipping it over her shoulders.

“Thanks,” Evelyn mumbled. The two women stood facing each other for a few silent moments.

“I know how it feels,” Peggy stated. This brought a fresh wave of tears that Evelyn didn’t bother wiping away. Her brown eyes were regretful as she continued speaking. “And I am sorry.”

“Thank you,” she replied. Peggy cast a glance back towards the entrance of the bar. Evelyn felt guilty at that moment. Peggy was obviously there to see Steve. She was there to see the man she loved and now Evelyn had stolen her attention all because of a few tears.

“Are you going to tell him?” Peggy asked. Evelyn knew the answer immediately.

“I think it’s better if I don’t.”

“Better for who?” A lump was stuck in Evelyn’s throat. She couldn’t respond. Peggy bid her a good night, gave her a lingering glance, and turned away to go back inside the bar.

The walk home was cold and empty. Evelyn’s lungs and nose burned with every breath she took. She was shivering but, at this point, she didn’t think it was because of the cold. Her heels quickly became waterlogged as she walked through puddles, the soles squishing unpleasantly with every step.

When Evelyn arrived at their apartment, she started to pull the key out of her coat pocket only to remember that Bucky had taken the key because he had more pockets than she did. She thumped her forehead against the door and sighed.

Reluctantly, she slid a hairpin out of her hair and knelt down to try and pick the lock. She’d done it once before, surely she could do it again. After almost twenty minutes, an old man hobbled up to her, his cane making dull thumps on the floor. A keyring that jangled with every step sat on his hip.

“Do you live here?” he asked. Evelyn nodded and stood, hiccuping slightly. Her breaths were shuddering and her hands were shaking.

“I… my b-boyfriend has the key,” she said, stumbling over the word. It felt foreign in her mouth. He raised his eyebrows at her accent but raised no further objections. She was drenched and shivering, her makeup running down her face. She must’ve been a terribly pitious sight.

“I’ll only do this once, okay?” he stated, holding up a gnarled finger. “Next time you two have a fight, take the key with you.” She nodded gratefully and moved aside as the man sorted through the keys before he found the right one and jammed it into the lock.

“Thank you,” Evelyn said softly. His expression softened as he stared at her. It was enough to bring a fresh wave of tears. He nodded once before turning and hobbling away. She gazed after him for a moment before entering the apartment.

She stumbled inside, closing the door behind her and leaning against it. More exhausted than she thought she was, Evelyn slipped off her heels and stockings, placing the stockings in the bathroom over the shower rod to dry.

Slowly and quietly, she let her hair down and removed her makeup. The mascara streaming down her cheeks was wiped away but her red eyes remained. She took a shower, watching as her pale, cold fingers turned red under the heat of the water. Going through the motions of her nighttime routine helped calm her. Her hands were no longer shaking as she stepped out of the shower but she still felt nauseous.

Evelyn flicked the light off in the bathroom, letting the bedroom stay dark. By the orange light of the streetlight outside their window, she dug through a drawer and pulled out a white t-shirt. It was far too big to be hers but she slipped it on over her head anyways. It smelled like Bucky.

She crawled into bed and tugged the covers over her shoulder, fighting the urge to hide her head away from the world. As she lay there, staring out the window, she heard the radiator start up with a cough and a wheeze. The rain outside started up once more. Evelyn stared at the drops mutely as they dripped down and out of sight.

_Click. Creak. Click._

The door opening and closing. Bucky was home. As he moved around the room, undressing and showering and getting ready for bed, Evelyn continued to stare out of the window. 

When did she begin to think of the apartment as home? The items in the apartment had become theirs to own. The rooms had become theirs. The bed she was laying in was their bed.

For so long, it had only been Evelyn in her own world. Now, for a time, there hadn’t been just a ‘her.’ There had been an ‘us.’ She didn’t know if she could go back to just her.

She felt the bed shift with Bucky’s weight as he climbed in bed with her. Almost instinctively, he wrapped an arm around her waist and snuggly fit his body to hers.

Despite herself, she asked, “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow morning.” Her heart wrenched. She took a stuttering breath.

“Leave before I wake up,” she requested. Bucky reached over and gently laid a hand on her shoulder, silently begging her to turn around.

“Look at me, please,” he whispered. Evelyn stayed still. Beside her, she could feel him roll out of bed and walk over to her side. He knelt down, making his face level with hers. His eyes were bloodshot too. Just the idea of him crying shattered her.

Bucky’s gaze roamed over her face, lingering on her lips, the curve of her cheek, her eyes. He was memorizing her features.

“Please,” Evelyn whispered, her chin trembling. Bucky’s eyes glistened as he reached up to stroke her hair. He nodded slowly.

“I will,” he promised before standing and getting back into bed. Evelyn rolled over and moved forwards, nestling her face into his neck, breathing him in deeply. Perhaps it was the exhaustion from crying and the walk. Perhaps her mind was just giving up for the night. Whatever the reason, within minutes, she was asleep.

When Evelyn Thomas woke, she woke to an empty bed and a cold apartment. All of Bucky’s things were gone, packed up in a suitcase and taken to wherever he was supposed to meet Steve and the rest of the squadron. If someone else walked in at that moment, they wouldn’t have known that anyone else had ever lived there.

The sky was overcast, shining a gray, soft light into the bedroom. She rolled out of bed and stood, stretching. Everything in the apartment and the world beyond felt colorless.

She went through the motions of what she was supposed to do, making breakfast, getting ready, packing her things, without actually feeling any of it. She even packed up all of the food they’d bought on their last grocery run and brought it down to the food bank across the street. Having done that, there was nothing barring her from getting a taxi to the airport.

She spoke as little as possible to the taxi driver and the worker who sold her the ticket for her flight back home. New York was her home, not the small apartment in London that housed her and Bucky for however brief a time. No matter how much it felt like it, that place was not her home. 

Briefly, she wondered if home could be a person instead of a place. She answered her own question in seconds: yes. And she knew that her home was Bucky. Whether or not she would ever be home again hurt somewhere deep in her chest.

A long twelve hours later, she was on her own doorstep, fishing her keys out of her suitcase. As she stepped inside, she saw that not everything was as she left it. One of the cabinets in her kitchen, the one where she kept her candy and other sweets, was open and a note was left on her coffee table.

_Thanks for the candy. Not thanks for not telling me that you were in Europe. I’ll be here_ ~~_until the_~~ _as long as you need me._

_Love you much,_

_Will_

Evelyn collapsed onto her sofa and slowly laid down. She was exhausted. She could see Will tomorrow. She could face all of her thoughts and feelings tomorrow. Numb and tired, she fell down, down, down, into a dreamless sleep.


	7. Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

_“I will love you if I never see you again and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday.” - Lemony Snicket_

* * *

Evelyn was at her kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee that had long gone cold. The different versions of her articles were spread out in front of her with pencil marks. One paper had a ring of coffee from where she’d set her mug.

The lock on the front door clicked and the door swung open. She didn’t even look up; only one other person had the key to her apartment.

“Wow, when did you start dressing like Marge from apartment 4?” Evelyn finally looked over to see her brother leaning in the kitchen doorway. He was referencing the large t-shirt she was wearing over her pajama pants. Her hair was still in curlers and she had no makeup on her face. She raised her mug to take a sip and grimaced at the temperature.

“Ever since you started fooling around with the milkman from our old neighborhood,” she retorted, glaring into her coffee before setting it aside. Will smirked and rolled his eyes, most likely biting back whatever snappy remark was on his tongue. He could tell that she wasn’t feeling well. He could always tell.

He sauntered past the table into the main kitchen area and peered into several cupboards. His lanky figure folded in half as he leaned down to search the fridge.

“I thought you had nothing last night but, wow. What did you have for breakfast, Ev? Air?” Evelyn grinned without it reaching her eyes. His presence was helping to lighten the dark cloud that had settled over her head and she was grateful.

“Will, can you come sit down?” she asked. He was at the other chair almost immediately, crossing one leg over the other. His eyes were the exact same shade of green as hers. His hair, however, was practically black and fell to the tops of his ears in waves. He waited for her to speak, resting a hand on the table, eyes roving over the different papers.

“I fell in love while I was in Europe,” Evelyn said. It hurt just as much as the first time she’d said it out loud. Will raised a dark eyebrow but other than that, showed no indication that he was surprised.

“With some handsome Italian or French man, I hope,” Will said.

“No. He’s a sergeant. He’s actually from Brooklyn.” Will finally looked up at her and gave her a slow nod.

“So he’s risking his life out on the battlefield. Without you.” Evelyn shrugged and stammered out a further explanation. She described how she snuck through the base and fought her way out with the prisoners. She described how Bucky was after getting him back. Her breath hitched a few times but she willed herself not to tear up. Now, she was faced with the ordeal of possibly never seeing him again. More than that, she didn’t want Bucky to endure more things that gave him nightmares. He’d served his country enough; he should be done.

“I get where you’re coming from,” Will said softly.

“Oh, please. You’re an eligible bachelor if I ever saw one,” Evelyn snorted. A small, sad smile came over Will’s face. She was right. Will had never been in a relationship or tried to settle down. If either one of them ever had more than a passing fancy, it became a big deal between them. The only reason why she hadn’t told Will about Bucky until now was because this was the first time they were seeing each other since her birthday.

“Do you know where he is?” Will asked. Evelyn solemnly shook her head.

“Somewhere off with Captain America,” she replied, raising her fingers to massage her temples.

“And you’re just letting him go?” Will asked. “Without a fight?” Evelyn straightened up at her brother's tone. She glared at him, collecting her thoughts for a moment.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Anything,” Will said, putting both feet on the floor. His gaze was intense and piercing. Briefly, Evelyn wondered if that was what she looked like when she entered an argument.

“I’m certainly not joining the military on the off chance that I might-”

“You fought through a Nazi base for this man and this is where you’re giving up?” Will scoffed. Evelyn snapped her mouth shut, her cheeks reddening. She did chase onto a HYDRA base to find him. She parachuted down into enemy territory. She shot someone so she and her friends and Bucky could leave safely. All of this and she was going to let distance tear them apart?

Will shook his head and sighed before standing. He straightened out his tie and shook out his coat, seemingly readying himself to leave.

“For being so smart, you’re so dumb sometimes,” her brother said.

“Are you leaving?” she asked. It was in typical fashion for Will to leave after making one last dramatic statement. Evelyn didn’t want him to go however; she didn’t want to be alone with the rest of her thoughts.

Will dramatically sighed and said, “No. But I’m giving you space to get ready. That shirt might look good on your sergeant but it does nothing for your figure.” Evelyn’s grin this time was genuine.

“His name is Bucky.”

“Oh, god, why would his parents do that to him?” Evelyn chuckled, her first real laugh since she had left Europe. “Come on, little lady,” Will continued as he strode over behind her and hauled her up by her armpits.

“Time to get dressed,” she said. She padded into her bedroom, off to the right, and slipped the shirt over her head. While she was tempted to throw it into the corner of the room and never look at it again, she dropped it in her laundry basket along with all of her clothes from being in Europe.

It didn’t leave much choice for her dress that day. Evelyn pulled another blue number out of the closet, patterned with small white flowers. She sighed; Will was going to make fun of her for this one. Somehow, she found that she didn’t mind too much.

\---

Evelyn had just come back from her lunch with Will when Jimmy stopped by her desk. She had her head down, bent over her newest project: an account of the front lines through the eyes of a civilian. There was no way it was getting published any time in the near future but maybe it would make it into a history book someday.

“Um, Miss Thomas?” Jimmy asked, hovering nervously in front of her desk. She looked up with a tired grin. He thrust an envelope at her. “It’s, uh, postmarked from Europe. It came through our mail office.”

Evelyn straightened up with interest. She snatched the letter out of his hand. In slanted, blocky lettering was her name and the address of the building. The corner of the envelope had an address along with a name. James Barnes. Her heart stuttered in her chest as she stared at the name.

“Thank you, Jimmy,” she mumbled before beginning to tear the letter open. There were two pages inside, folded up next to each other. She placed the second sheet down on her desk without opening it. Unfolding the first sheet revealed a letter.

_Evie,_

_I miss you. Terribly. The other men are all missing you as well. Dugan keeps joking, asking when you’re going to come join us and cheer me up. I guess I’ve been moping about, getting on his nerves. Serves him right, thinking he could propose to my best girl._

_I knew that I would miss you but I didn’t expect it to be so bad. I’ve never missed someone in this way before. It’s the way that never stops. I miss you every second of every day with everything in me. Guess that’s what you get when you fall for a beautiful woman who lives thousands of miles away._

_I promise that when this war is over, I’ll wake up to you every day. You’ll get so tired of seeing this handsome mug, you’ll kick me back to Brooklyn until you start missing me too much. I’ll be missing you then too. Hell, I miss you now. I always do._

_You can send letters to this address and they’ll get them to me wherever I am. One of the perks of being Captain America’s best friend. He gets letters from Peggy all the time. It’s hilarious how in love they are._

_Stay out of trouble until I get back, okay?_

_Bucky_

Evelyn slowly folded the letter up and slid it back into the envelope. When she opened the second sheet of paper, she let out a small gasp. 

It was a small sketch of Evelyn in the London apartment. She was sitting on the floor, her back against the couch, and her eyes were closed. Little music notes were drawn in front of her. The sketch wasn’t perfect but that only made her love it more.

Almost reverently, she slid the sketch into the envelope next to the letter and put the envelope in her purse where it would be safe. Her first instinct was to write a letter back to him but she would certainly be reprimanded for doing it at work. She could wait out the work day and write one when she got home, she reasoned.

When Evelyn walked into her apartment, her mind filled with thoughts of what she would write back, she saw Will in her kitchen. His coat was tossed on the couch and his tie was hanging loose around his neck. He looked at home in her small apartment; Evelyn suddenly wished that she had an extra room for him to stay in.

“How was your day?” he called from the other room. Evelyn told him that it was fine. No new assignments, no breaking news, nothing particularly spectacular, save for one thing.

“I got a letter from Bucky today,” she said, walking into the kitchen and slipping on an apron. Will turned to her with a smirk.

“The sergeant himself, hm? What did he have to say?” Evelyn didn’t respond, choosing instead to focus on finishing up the sauce he had started for their pasta. Taking her silence as a cue, Will continued on, “Oh, it was a love letter, wasn’t it?”

“It wasn’t a _love letter,_ ” Evelyn sneered. Will repeated her sentence in a mocking tone. Okay, he had a point. People didn’t send letters across the sea to talk about what they had for dinner. It still wasn’t exactly a love letter, though. “It was more of an ‘I-miss-you’ letter.”

“That counts as a love letter,” he said.

“Does not!”

“Does too! And if you keep arguing with me, I’ll pour this pasta in your hair,” Will said as he hefted the boiling pot of water and dumped it into a strainer in the sink.

“You would never,” Evelyn said. In response, Will picked up a piece of rigatoni and chucked it at her. It hit her square in the back of the head, tangling in her hair.

“I would,” he said.

“William!” she shouted. She untangled the damp piece of pasta and threw it back at him. Before it could turn into an actual food fight, Will raised his hands in defeat. Evelyn smiled wider than she had in the three weeks since she last saw Bucky. 

Being with her brother, bickering and bantering like when they were teens, was bringing some semblance of normal back into her life. After reconnaissance missions, battlefields, nightmares, and falling in love, normal felt nice.

\---

_Dear Bucky,_

_I wish I could’ve gone with you. I’d be out there with you fighting HYDRA, making Phillips furious, and photographing everything I could, including that handsome face of yours. You say that I’d get tired of it but I don’t think I would. I’d fill up my film with pictures of you until I had to switch it out and do it all over again._

_I miss you too. I missed you from the second you told me you were going. I wanted to cry from the ache in my chest. My heart felt like a rock when I realized that it was really happening, that you were really leaving._

_I find that city life is horribly drab when compared to a rescue mission in enemy territory. The struggles of being the only woman in my department pale in comparison to being attacked by HYDRA. I’m compiling an account of what I experienced over there. Werner’s not going to run it but maybe we’ll make the history books some day, you and I._

_Stay safe. Come back to me._

_Evie_

\---

Evelyn had just been handed an assignment for another puff piece when Johnson stopped by her desk. She looked up at him and snappily asked what he wanted. No doubt he wanted to rub it in her face that he’d gotten a real piece; he did that from time to time when Evelyn would get particularly disgruntled.

“Wow, I guess you don’t want my help,” Johnson replied.

“Spit it out, old man,” Evelyn said, clacking away at her typewriter. Johnson tossed a file onto her hands. The label on the top read ‘HOWLING COMMANDOS.’ It sounded like a military squadron. The first thing she saw when she opened it was a sheet of paper with medical information.

The name caught her eye immediately: Steve Rogers. She chuckled lightly as her eyes roved down the list of medical conditions and ailments he’d experienced in his life. It wasn’t funny necessarily but, wow, was he a resilient guy to have survived all of this. A photo included in the file showed a terribly skinny Steve.

This was the guy who kept getting into alley fights? Both Steve and Bucky had told her stories. She kept smiling fondly as she read down the page before flipping to the next one. A few of her articles and pictures from her time with him on tour were clipped out of a newspaper and pressed between the papers.

The next page, however, caused her stomach to sink. It was the article that she ran on Bucky’s squadron, complete with two photos: the group photo and the solo photo she’d taken of Bucky. It was a lengthy article, one that she was proud of. Looking back on it, it was some of her best work so far.

Despite the pride she felt for her work, she couldn’t help but reach out and lightly touch the photo of Bucky’s face.

“The Howling Commandos are an elite squad that have been going around destroying factories in enemy territory,” Johnson said. Evelyn jerked her hand back and looked up at him. His dark eyes were fixed on her face. “They’re led by-”

“Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes,” Evelyn finished, looking back down at the file in her hands.

“You wanted to know more about HYDRA, right?” Johnson asked. Hesitantly, Evelyn nodded, her hands idly flipping through the pages that remained in the file. It was simply the enlistment forms of the other soldiers. Dugan, Jim, Gabe, Jacques, and Falsworth. “This is your chance.”

That last sentence caused her head to whip up. He was… he was giving her his assignment? It wasn’t against the rules exactly but Werner didn’t like it, especially when it was a huge project like this.

“How long would I be with them?” she asked.

“As long as it takes to put together comprehensive pieces on each member. It’s not a short trip if that’s what you’re asking.”

“And you’re just giving me this assignment?” she asked incredulously. Johnson glared at her, giving her a sign that she should drop the subject. Of course, he was handing it over. She had now seen battle, more than any other journalist in her department. Whatever brush Johnson had had with HYDRA made him not want to go back out there. Plus, he had his family to think of.

There was, no doubt, the added benefit that Evelyn had almost lost her job last time she went out to the front lines. If she screwed up on this one, she’d definitely be fired. The men she worked with would love to see that.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. Johnson nodded before striding away. Looking closer at the assignment, she realized that she was due to fly back to London in a week. She’d better get working on the interview questions and, more importantly, what she’d say to Bucky when she saw him again.

\---

_My dear Evie,_

_Your passion for everything you do is admirable and is one of the things that drew me to you. Everything about you drew me in, actually. Your smile, your curiosity, the way you set your shoulders when you were determined to follow me onto the battlefield. I’ve never been one to fall fast but falling for you was like falling asleep. Easy, natural, normal._

_Thinking about you makes me homesick. Not just for you but for New York. The sounds of cars and people and music never stopped there. When I first got here, sleeping was one of the hardest things to do because it was so quiet._

_T_ _he best night’s sleep I’ve gotten over here was when I slept with you. I laid there feeling your breaths in time with mine for what felt like hours before I allowed myself to drift off. I cursed the reveille that morning. I didn’t want to wake you up, you looked so peaceful. Then I got to wake up to you for weeks. How could I get so lucky as to have that privilege? I’ll wake up to you again someday, I promise._

_Yours always,_

_Bucky_

\---

Evelyn sat in a covered truck, rocking back and forth due to the uneven roads, picking at her nails. She sat across from a soldier who kept looking her up and down, more out of curiosity than anything else. It wasn’t often, she now knew from experience, that a civilian woman was invited onto a military base.

After a brief stop in London to get debriefed on HYDRA and sign a few nondisclosure agreements about the organization, she’d been shipped off to the Howling Commandos’ camp. At this point, she felt more like cargo than a reporter, switching from a plane to a truck to another truck, being shuttled around with several people surrounding her at all times.

Finally, the truck stopped and she hopped off, her boots hitting the ground with a thump. Back in New York, Evelyn had taken it upon herself to buy clothes that suited the front lines more than a dress; her suitcase was filled with dress pants, undershirts, button downs, and coats. She only had the finances to buy herself two good pairs of boots but she was happy with them.

An entourage strode up to Evelyn to greet her. Her heart lifted when she saw Steve. It had been almost five months since they’d seen each other. It seemed that the life of a captain suited him much more than that of an entertainer. She outstretched her hand which he shook firmly.

“Good to see you again, Evelyn,” he said, the perfect picture of professionalism. She grinned and nodded.

“Likewise.” She turned and was introduced to a few more officials who barely spared her a glance before moving to greet the other soldiers she had arrived with. Steve reached out and gently touched her arm, jerking his chin towards the rest of the base.

“There are some people who are going to be very happy to see you,” he said. Evelyn nodded and began marching along with him, her suitcase bumping her leg with every step. Steve reached down and grabbed her suitcase from her with a smile.

“How have you been?” Evelyn asked. She looked up at him, his blonde hair shining dully under the cloudy sky.

“I’ve been good. Finally getting out there, doing my part to take down HYDRA,” he replied.

“Seen Peggy recently?” Steve smiled and shook his head.

“You and Bucky just won’t let that go, will you?” Sensing that he’d rather not talk about her, Evelyn changed the subject. As they walked through the base conversing, they caught the eye of several soldiers although the attention didn’t seem to bother Evelyn anymore. She had grown used to the stares over the recent stretch of her career.

They were coming close to the edge of the base when Evelyn heard a loud guffaw that was unmistakable. She rounded the corner of a tent to see Dugan and Jim, each smoking a cigarette. At first, they didn’t notice her, too wrapped up in whatever story about his wife Dugan was telling.

“Got a light?” she asked, interrupting Dugan. He whirled around at the sound of her voice.

“You don’t smoke, little lady,” he chortled, reaching out to wrap his arm around her shoulders. She laughed, her head tilting back. Returning his hug, she smirked at Jim.

“Hey, if you’ve decided to take it up, I’ve got a few extras,” he said. Evelyn shook her head and let go of Dugan.

“I smoke on occasion,” she pointed out.

“What are you doing here?” Dugan asked, obviously excited at her presence. She quickly explained how the assignment had been given to her and the relative swiftness of which she was whisked away from New York.

“You seen Barnes yet?” Jim asked after a drag of his cigarette. Evelyn shook her head. Her insides were twisting unpleasantly at the idea. She’d promised herself that she’d think of what to say to him but, so far, she had come up with nothing. Jim jerked his chin towards the tent just across from them.

“He’s been in there all day. When he’s not on the battlefield, he’s scribbling away in his notebook,” Dugan said with a knowing look. Evelyn took a few steps towards the tent and hesitated. She felt as she had when she went on the Cyclone for the first time: shaky, nervous, slightly nauseous. She huffed lightly, shaking her head before marching forwards steadily.

With every step, her stomach curled up more and more. She could feel her heartbeat growing faster as she pulled back the flap of the tent and stepped inside, her eyes adjusting to the change in light.

Bucky was the only one in the tent. He was perched on the edge of the furthest bed from her, bent over his notebook. His left hand was at his mouth, nibbling slightly on the tip of his thumb. He let his hand fall as he grabbed an eraser and fixed something on his paper. He was completely absorbed in what he was doing. He was beautiful.

As soon as Evelyn began to approach, his head whipped up. His expression could only be described as awestruck. He stood quickly and practically ran up to her, wrapping her up in his arms. She clutched onto him, finding that tears were filling her eyes and her chest was hitching slightly.

She hadn’t realized just how much she missed being wrapped up in him until now. She also hadn’t realized the fury she’d been holding in. Suddenly, Evelyn shoved him away. Even with all her might, he only stumbled back a few steps.

“Evie-”

“Don’t. You think you can just send me a letter and everything will be okay?” she cried. The tears that had escaped her eyes were now out of anger and embarrassment. “You think I’m not still mad? Every day, I expect a condolence letter. I go out of my mind with worry for you!”

Bucky’s eyes were wide with surprise. Evelyn reached up to impatiently wipe at her tears, stifling a sob. She had only felt genuine fear a handful of times in her life but, looking at Bucky now, she was more scared than ever to lose him. Spurred on by her fear, she grabbed him and pulled him close to her again.

“I missed you so much,” she said, her tears slowly subsiding. Bucky’s arms gently wrapped around her once more, nestling his face into her hair. Her breathing evened out. Her heart, broken so long ago, finally felt whole again. Evelyn was home.

\---

“What is this?” Evelyn asked, holding up a drab jacket in one hand and a matching skirt in the other. Bucky had walked her over to where she’d be staying and upon their arrival, a uniform had been sitting on one of the beds.

“It’s your uniform, Evie,” Bucky said with a smirk.

“Oh, come on,” she groaned. Last time she was on base, she didn’t have to wear a uniform. However, she wasn’t an official war correspondent last time. Another item that was sitting with the uniform was an armband with a ‘C’ on it to identify who she was when she was out on the battlefield.

“I think you’ll look adorable in it,” Bucky said, wrapping his arms around her waist and propping his chin on her shoulder. She tossed the uniform back onto the bed and turned around in his arms, linking her hands behind his neck.

“I think I’ll look ridiculous,” she replied. Bucky chuckled and leaned down, lightly pecking her on the lips.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” Evelyn jerked backwards like she’d been burned as Bucky’s hands fell from her waist. They both looked towards the entrance of the tent to see a woman standing there in the same uniform that Evelyn had been given. Her platinum blonde hair was damp from the humidity outside and her uniform jacket had water droplets on the shoulders. Despite her words, she didn’t look very sorry.

Bucky cleared his throat and said, “Evelyn Thomas, this is Vanessa Price. Vanessa, this is Evelyn.” Evelyn gave her a smile and a nod, rushing forwards to shake her hand. Her handshake was firm, almost too aggressive for Evelyn’s taste.

“How long have you been on assignment out here?” Evelyn asked, her gaze falling to the ‘WAR CORRESPONDENT’ badge on Vanessa’s jacket.

“About four months.” No elaboration. Evelyn hesitated as they locked eyes. Vanessa’s brown gaze was friendly but with an edge of steel to it. It set her on edge.

“Vanessa’s from a film company based in Atlanta,” Bucky said, approaching them, his hands in his pockets. “She’s been getting footage of everyone and sending it back there. You’ve made, what, almost a whole documentary already?”

“Almost,” she said as she turned to face Bucky. That edge faded from her gaze as she looked at him. When Evelyn spoke, however, the sharpness returned.

“That’s really impressive. I’d love to see what you’ve gathered so far.”

“Maybe someday soon,” Vanessa replied shortly. Evelyn’s eyes narrowed slightly but she managed to keep her friendly smile on her face. Vanessa’s vaguely threatening demeanor belied her smile and words. The tent was thick with the tension between them. 

Vanessa’s dark eyes flicked towards the second bed in the tent that was made up nicely with a trunk at the end of it. Something twisted unpleasantly inside Evelyn’s chest. They were roommates. Great.

“I was only going to get my raincoat. I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said.

“No, it’s alright,” Evelyn said with her own grin plastered on. Vanessa nodded before moving to her side of the tent and digging through her trunk. As she did so, Evelyn looked back up at Bucky who was giving her a disapproving look. She made a face at him before Vanessa straightened up and slid her raincoat on.

It looked shiny and new and decidedly not military issue. Vanessa tied the coat shut around her narrow waist before turning back to them. She nodded at Evelyn, gave Bucky a smile, and walked out without another word. Evelyn stared after her and crossed her arms over her chest.

“You don’t like her,” Bucky announced.

“She doesn’t like me,” Evelyn corrected. Bucky took his hands out of his pockets and placed them on Evelyn’s arms, rubbing up and down comfortingly.

“I think you just have to get used to each other. Have a sleepover or something. Braid each other’s hair,” he said with his sideways smile. Evelyn rolled her eyes and sighed. He leaned down again to give her a soft kiss. That brought a grin to her face as it always did.

“I’m sure things will be fine,” she mumbled.

“Things will be fine.”

\---

“Where are we heading?” Evelyn asked as she hopped into the truck. Bucky slid in beside her, adjusting his rifle as he did so. Vanessa was the last of them to climb in with her big bulky bag of camera equipment. She set it gently on the floor before digging into it, seemingly ignoring the rest of them.

“West. It’s the third base we’re trying to take down,” Steve said as he unfolded a map of Europe. He pointed at a spot in northwestern Italy. “We’re not actually going in but interrupting their supply chain so they can’t continue making their weapons.”

“Stark hasn’t been able to replicate their technology?” Evelyn asked with a pointed look at the pistol at Steve’s hip. He shook his head ruefully.

“Not quite yet.” Evelyn nodded, her fingers twitching with the urge to write the information down. She had more important things to focus on though. “They’re receiving an important shipment later today and we’re going to stop it.”

“How?” Vanessa’s blonde head turned towards Evelyn before she rolled her eyes. She’d seen that look on many people before. She knew that Vanessa was thinking _‘Wow, do you ever stop asking questions?’_ and the answer was no. Determined to not let it bother her, Evelyn turned back to Steve.

“Jacques’ our explosive expert. He’s rigged up a couple of things we’re going to need,” Steve answered vaguely. Evelyn nodded, absorbing the information, before she leaned back and started digging into her satchel. She pulled out a pencil and her notepad before scrawling down a few notes to herself.

She glanced up a few times as Jacques animatedly spoke. It was the first time she’d heard him speak in English. He was telling a story about how he almost blew his hand off as a kid messing around with a firework. She grinned and chuckled softly as he mimicked his mother yelling at him.

The atmosphere in the truck was managing to feel like she was on a trip with friends and not on a military mission into enemy territory. Bucky sat beside her, the swaying of the truck making them bump into each other. Steve sat across from her, his demeanor was that of a captain but a small smile was forming on his face.

At the front of where they all sat, Vanessa had been quietly making conversation with Gabe until she hefted up her camera and lifted it to her face. Evelyn couldn’t help but look at it for a few moments.

“How’ve you been since we last saw you?” Jim asked Evelyn from her left.

“I’ve been… good,” she settled on saying. There would be a time and place for her to go into her dark thoughts and moods after she left Europe; that time and place was not here. To elaborate, she said, “I’ve mostly been spending time at work and with Will.”

“Will?” Jim echoed with a raised eyebrow. He looked between Bucky and Evelyn who started laughing. Jim and, judging by the looks the other Commandos were giving them, everyone else was confused by her mentioning another man.

“My brother,” Evelyn explained through her giggles. Steve, having heard much about Will, smiled. He knew how she’d been missing her brother as of late.

“What assignments have you been on?” Steve asked, changing the subject to something less personal. Evelyn rolled her eyes and sighed.

“Same old. How many war bonds are selling, the oldest woman in New York just had her birthday, how Captain America’s tour was discontinued,” she finished with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.

“And the boys are being nice?” Steve asked. Evelyn’s smile dropped. While Johnson was no longer hostile towards her, it seemed as though the others had picked up the slack for him. Menger and Lionel would call her belittling names in the break room while she was preparing her coffee. Even Werner seemed to be at the end of his rope when it came to her.

“As nice as they ever are,” she sighed, offering no elaboration. Her eyes fell to where Steve had a pistol on his hip. She jerked her chin towards it and grinned. “Not gonna carry something with more firepower?”

“Hey, at least I didn’t cross enemy lines with nothing but a switchblade,” Steve retorted. Evelyn slumped back and rolled her eyes.

“You did what now?” Falsworth asked. He propped his elbows on his knees and leaned forwards, his dark brows furled over his blue eyes with interest.

“Here we go…” Evelyn mumbled as Bucky shifted in his seat. He’d no doubt given his own version of events to Steve and now he was about to tell everyone else too.

“So, get this,” Bucky starts, drawing a quick chuckle from Evelyn, “Evelyn is a reporter who’s supposed to interview us. She’s digging through this filing cabinet when I walk into the tent-”

“It was not a filing cabinet!” she protested. Bucky lightly nudged her with his elbow and kept talking over her.

“At the end of the interview, she asks me what HYDRA is. I tell her not to worry about it, whatever, that’s supposed to be the end of it. Later that night, we’re out on a recon mission. I’m about to leave the truck when the tarp at the back moves.” Everyone, including Vanessa, turned their gazes towards Evelyn who was grinning despite the flush on her cheeks.

“Me and another guy pull the tarp off, aiming a _gun_ at whoever was hiding, and there’s Evelyn!”

“You were pointing a gun at her?” Jim asked. “And now you’re together? Man, I gotta change how I approach women.” Everyone let out a hearty laugh at that before Bucky began speaking again, moving his hands around animatedly as he did so.

“So we let her come along and we get up to the ridge overlooking the HYDRA base, preparing to go further down when one of my guys gets shot. Obviously, I’m thinking that this girl doesn’t have a gun so-”

“He shoves me behind a tree!” Evelyn butted in with a laugh.

“I did not shove you!”

“You weren’t gentle either,” she giggled. Bucky leaned in closer to wrap an arm loosely around her shoulders.

“The commotion eventually starts to die down and I look over to where my girl is hiding and there’s a German soldier up there with her,” Bucky said. “I start to run up and see that she _stabbed_ him. Twice!”

“Twice?” Falsworth asked incredulously. Evelyn nodded, keeping her smirk steady. On the inside, she was blooming with happiness. The past few months now felt like nothing but a fever dream, a false life. This was her real life, here and now. They drove on, the inside of the truck growing warmer and warmer despite the rain and chill outside.

After a few hours and more than a few shared stories, they arrived at their destination. Steve’s smile faded, suddenly all business. The switch between how Evelyn was used to seeing him and how he was behaving now was almost jarring. She was far more used to the Steve who played cards with her backstage at Captain America’s shows, not this Steve who gave out orders as though he’d always done so.

They disembarked and gathered at the hood where Steve pulled out a compass and a map, showing them their route through the forest. Vanessa was filming the exchange as Evelyn stepped back, making sure her camera was loaded with fresh film. She quickly snapped a few photos at different angles.

The men were obviously used to being photographed by now, none of them even sparing the women a second glance as they did their jobs, which Evelyn suspected was Vanessa’s influence. 

Evelyn bent at the waist to get a better shot of Steve’s compass and the map, thinking it would make a good artistic shot, only to realize that he had a picture of Peggy in his compass. She hesitated, smiling behind her camera, before snapping the shot. They said that a picture is worth a thousand words; this picture would be worth an entire novel to Steve and Peggy.

Steve looked to Vanessa and Evelyn who were very obviously staring at the compass before snapping it shut and nodding.

“Let’s move out. Stay alert. Price, Evelyn,” Steve started, turning to them, “You two stay in the middle of the group as much as possible.” Evelyn glowed a little with pride at being addressed by her first name and the friendship it implied while Vanessa was called by her last name.

They began their trek through the forest after being informed that it should take no more than an hour for them to reach their destination. The sky was overcast and gray, the light shining dully down onto the forest floor. Whereas there had been lively conversation on the truck, there was only the sound of the men marching on, twigs and leaves snapping and crunching under their feet.

A few times, Steve had them stop and draw their weapons while Evelyn and Vanessa crouched in the middle of the group. Evelyn grimaced every time it happened. Steve had stopped her before boarding the truck and searched her bag to make sure she wasn’t sneaking on anything she wasn’t supposed to have.

A lone dirt road eventually loomed up out of the gloom and into their view. Steve ushered them into a huddle and quietly explained what was going to go down. As he was speaking, the sound of a truck reached their ears. Judging by the look on Steve’s face, this wasn’t supposed to happen; the delivery was early.

Without any warning, Jacques reached into his satchel and drew out a shiny metal device that Evelyn only got a glimpse at before running off into the middle of the road. She jerked with the impulse to run after him, not only to get a good photo but also because that was one of her friends running off, seemingly about to get hit by a truck.

As the group watched, Jacques laid flat on the ground and let the truck pass over him. After it drove away, he stood, the metal device noticeably missing. He put his hands up to his ears and, not even five seconds later, the truck exploded in a ball of flame.

Beside her, Falsworth let out a heavy breath and Gabe chuckled. Jacques turned to them and raised his hands as though to say, ‘See? Easy!’ Evelyn couldn’t help but chuckle herself.


	8. Through A Cracked Lens

_ “‘I’ll take care of you.’ ‘It’s rotten work.’ ‘Not to me. Not if it’s you.’” - Pylades and Orestes, Anne Carson, Euripides _

* * *

It was supposed to be a small excursion. Easy. Harmless. This wasn’t supposed to happen, Evelyn thought as her head whipped around. She had been snapping a few photos of the men marching through the forest, even managing to get a few of Vanessa and her video camera. The other woman so far had been reluctant to be on camera and even more so when Evelyn was the one behind it.

She had been simultaneously admiring her good work while also writing caption ideas in her notepad as she walked when she was suddenly slammed into the ground. Gabe was above her, his dark complexion ashen as he looked around.

“What happened?” she hissed. She craned her neck to look where Gabe was looking and her heart stuttered when she saw Steve and Bucky locked in a fight with several soldiers with HYDRA insignias and uniforms.

“Stay here,” he said as he scrambled up before running into the fray. Evelyn rolled over and saw that Vanessa was crouched behind a tree. Her already pale face was practically white. She motioned at Evelyn. Telling her to stay down? Telling her to go and help? Evelyn couldn’t discern what she was trying to convey.

Scrambling on her hands and knees, Evelyn managed to get over to Vanessa and said, “Give me your camera.”

“Like hell.”

“If you’re not going to do your job, I will,” Evelyn practically growled. A gunshot rang out. Vanessa flinched while Evelyn whirled to peer around the tree. No one was lying on the ground. As far as she could tell, her compatriots were still up and fighting. More shots were fired.

“Vanessa,” Evelyn said. Her blonde head whipped up, surprised as being addressed so familiarly. “I know how it feels to be scared. But you can either give in to that fear or fight back against it.”

Vanessa’s brown eyes cleared slightly. She nodded and stood, still leaning against the tree, still trembling all over. Evelyn stood with her. The women nodded at each other before starting forwards, edging around the tree. 

Not only would getting these videos and pictures detail their experiences on the battlefield but it would help Stark and Peggy and everyone else involved with their squadron discern more about HYDRA’s forces. There were details that Evelyn herself couldn’t identify but that others possibly could.

A rogue bullet hit the tree that Evelyn was crouching near. She flinched and ducked back behind it, her heart hammering in her chest. She took a few deep breaths and rounded the tree, taking four large steps forwards. A HYDRA soldier in the fray noticed her and took aim. Before she could duck behind another tree, he fired three times.

She jerked backwards twice, a searing pain blossoming across her chest.  _ No… _

She raised her hands to her chest and pressed down, groaning slightly in pain. Dimly aware of Vanessa screaming, her gaze slowly lifted from her wounds to the battle not ten feet in front of her. She opened her mouth to shout for help but only blood came out.

It was happening. It was really happening. Evelyn was choking on her own blood, unable to draw a proper breath. Her slick bloody hands reached out to the blurry figures running towards her. The world spun around her before she hit the ground with a thump, her cheek pressed to the carpet of pine needles. 

Someone rolled her over. People were shouting. Shots were being fired. Her eyes flitted around wildly, looking for something to focus on. Someone screamed her name. The pain in her chest intensified. A hand fit itself to her cheek. 

“James?” she choked out.

Then silence.

\---

Vanessa tried to run to help but more shots were fired in her direction, causing her to cower behind a tree, only able to stare as Evelyn reached her hands out to their friends. She screamed, both in horror and trying to draw attention so someone could reach Evelyn. At the shrill sound of her shrieks, Falsworth turned around and, upon spotting their wounded comrade, raced over.

A HYDRA soldier tried to chase after him but Falsworth swiftly gunned him down as Evelyn collapsed. He knelt down at her side, setting down his weapon and unzipping his coat. Vanessa’s gaze kept flicking between where he was helping Evelyn and the fight that was slowly dying down behind him.

Falsworth rolled Evelyn onto her back and shouted something unintelligible to Vanessa’s ears. Bucky broke off from the fray and sprinted up to them, practically falling to his knees when he reached them. Whether he heard Falsworth’s shouts or saw Evelyn get shot or simply felt that something had gone terribly wrong, Vanessa couldn’t say.

She watched on as Bucky yanked aside her heavy brown aviator jacket and ripped open the first few buttons of her previously white shirt. Falsworth handed him a wad of cloth that Vanessa realized was a part of his own shirt that he’d ripped off. After looking up at the fight one last time, she rushed over to Evelyn and Bucky and knelt down on her other side.

Evelyn’s green eyes were wide as she looked around, not seeming to focus on anything. Bucky lifted one of his hands to her cheek. His hand was partially bloody; Vanessa’s stomach turned at the sight.

“James?” Evelyn choked out.

“I’m here, stay with me,” Bucky said but it fell on deaf ears; Evelyn’s eyes slid shut and she fell limp. Vanessa’s first thought was that she was dead but her chest was still rising and falling. The red stain on her shirt was still spreading, staining the cloth that Bucky was still holding to her wounds as well as his hands.

Vanessa felt wetness on her face. Afraid that it was blood, she quickly raised a hand only to see herself shaking violently. The wetness on her face was tears. She was crying.

Silence had fallen around them but only for a brief moment. Suddenly, Steve was standing over them, barking orders.

“Dugan, get the bandages out of your pack. All of them. I’ll carry her back to the truck. We need to stabilize her until then.” His voice was sure and authoritative, cutting through the fog in Vanessa’s mind that had settled once the first shot was fired. She looked up at Steve, ready to obey whatever command he gave her, right before someone shoved her backwards. 

She fell back onto the forest floor with a soft grunt. Dugan swiftly took her place and began to wrap the bandages around Evelyn’s chest the best he could. Sniffling and wiping at her face, Vanessa slowly stood and backed up.

“Price,” Steve said. She looked up and nodded, still trying to wipe away her tears. “Go get your equipment.”

Vanessa tramped over to where she and Evelyn had dropped their cameras. She slung Evelyn’s camera around her neck while tucking her own underneath her arm. Holding her own camera gave her a strange sense of comfort.

When she turned back, she saw that Dugan had managed to secure the bandages around Evelyn’s chest and Steve was beginning to lift her gently. He managed to get her into his arms in a bridal carry before he started marching back in the direction of their truck.

Everyone followed, a solemn air coming over them like a heavy cloud. The walk back was silent and, thankfully, quick. They’d only walked maybe half a mile before the skirmish had started. Everyone clambered into the truck with Evelyn and Steve being the last in. He laid her down gently and sat down next to her to put more pressure on her wounds.

Vanessa, seated at the very back, looked down at Evelyn’s face. She had a few smears of blood where Bucky had touched her cheek. Her mouth was slightly agape. Her eyelashes were dark against her pale skin.

She reverently wrapped her hands around Evelyn’s camera sitting in her lap. Vanessa would keep it safe until Evelyn was better. She looked down at the camera, heart stuttering. There was a crack across the lens.

\---

The entire ride back, Steve had one hand on Evelyn’s wounds and another hand on her wrist to keep track of her pulse. It was thready and uneven but it was there. She was hanging on for now. Bucky had ordered over the din of the engine for someone to alert the driver that they needed to radio their camp for immediate medical support.

Steve looked up at Bucky, his best friend all his life, and ached at the pain he saw there. His elbows were braced on his knees, his bloodstained hands up at his mouth. His eyes were transfixed on Evelyn’s face. Steve could only imagine how Bucky felt at that moment. Even thinking about Peggy in Evelyn’s position caused his stomach to turn.

He quickly banished those thoughts from his mind, choosing to focus on what was happening here and now. One of his close friends was gravely injured, miles away from help. He had to keep her stabilized until they reached their camp.

Steve thought back on his first meeting with Evelyn. She had seemed just like any other reporter, if a bit more wise to the world, until she’d said Bucky’s name. Both of them had shared not just affection for the same person but also a drive to do something with their lives. Traveling together had brought them close in a way that Steve had never really felt besides Bucky. There was no pressure to impress with Evelyn; they’d both already seen what was most important to them.

The truck stopped abruptly and the others streamed out, making way for Evelyn and Steve. He peeked outside to see the medics rushing up with a stretcher.

“Be careful. It’s her chest. Two gunshot wounds,” Steve informed as they dragged Evelyn out of the truck and set her on the stretcher. He hopped out of the truck and walked with them to the medical tent with the rest of the team trailing behind him. 

“I’m sorry,” one of the medics stated, turning and holding up a hand, “This is as far as you can go.”

“But you’ll let us know-”

“We will,” she promised before she disappeared into the tent. Steve stared at the thick cloth for a few moments before turning and staring at the commandos. They all looked pale and shaken. 

He knew that, over the course of several months, Evelyn had become important to them despite the distance. He knew he should say something but couldn’t think of anything that could possibly comfort them. He also knew that the odds of Evelyn surviving were slimmer than any of them wanted to admit.

Steve drew in a breath, hesitated for a moment, and opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He snapped his jaw shut before ducking his head and walking away. With every step, the knot in his chest grew bigger and bigger until it made it hard to breathe.

His tent was in sight; he could retreat and climb into his bed and not deal with the rest of the world right now. Steve cast a look back to the medical tent. Everyone had dispersed but Bucky who was standing a few feet from the entrance, looking lost.

_ “I love him too.” _

_ “Not the way I do.” _

Evelyn’s voice echoed in Steve’s head before he turned and marched back over to the medical tent. He placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder; he was shaking.

“Come on, Buck. Nothing we can do here.”

“I should’ve-” He cut himself off and ducked his head. Steve’s heart ached not just for Evelyn, not just for their friendship, but for the fact that his best friend was watching this happen. 

He’d seen how Bucky talked about other women before and none of them compared to the way he spoke about Evelyn. He thought she hung the moon. He looked at her as though she was the sun. He loved her. 

That’s what was so scary to Steve. If Evelyn left, what parts of Bucky would she be taking with her?

\---

It took hours. The commandos, including Vanessa, sat in their barracks, whiling away the time. Jim and Falsworth quietly conversed about nothing while Dugan cleaned his shotgun. Jacques was fiddling with some metal pieces in his hands.

“Hey,” Gabe called, “That’s not gonna blow us all up, is it?” A small, sad smile came over Jacques’ face but he didn’t slow in his tinkering or look up. Gabe was always the one to try and lift their spirits no matter the situation. He usually resorted to snarky remarks and snappy jokes when they were in dire straits, much to the chagrin of their team leaders. 

All of them felt as though this wasn’t the time for jokes however. Evelyn was holding on for dear life not even forty feet away from their tent; making jokes just seemed wrong.

The flaps of the tent were pulled back and one of the nurses entered. Her pale blue uniform was spotted with blood at the hem and at the collar. Her dark hair, pulled back harshly against her scalp, was starting to escape its twist at the back of her head.

“Is she okay?” Dugan asked immediately, setting his shotgun aside. The nurse sighed.

“We removed the bullets and stitched her up. She’s stable.” The ‘for now’ was unspoken at the end of her sentence. The nurse, identified only by her name tag as HERNANDEZ, nodded at them. “She’s able to have two visitors at a time so…”

Hernandez trailed off, looking incredibly tired. Her gaze drifted off into the middle distance as she sighed. One could only assume that the surgery had been harrowing. They also doubted that Evelyn was the only one that had needed immediate medical care that day.

“Thank you,” Gabe said sincerely. Hernandez nodded before exiting, her shoulders bearing the weight of the world.

“Where’s Barnes?” Dugan asked.

“I think he’s with Rogers,” Jim stated as he lit a cigarette held between his lips. He took a long drag, longer than needed, before exhaling a large cloud of smoke. Vanessa volunteered to go find them, eager to get up and do something instead of sitting and waiting for more news and still feeling a little out of place among these soldiers despite studying them for four months.

She marched all around camp, trying to find them before she wound up at the medical tent on her own. Hesitantly, she peeked inside. There was one doctor up and about, checking on his patients. A few nurses milled about in the back of the tent, organizing supplies and taking inventory.

“Hello. Miss Price, isn’t it?” the doctor said. Vanessa nodded quietly. The doctor walked over and cast a glance over at one of the beds halfway down the row. “You were with Miss Thomas?”

“We’re, uh… war correspondents,” Vanessa said. She was surprised at how hoarse her voice was. “How is she?”

“Our biggest worry right now is infection,” the doctor sighed.

“I should- I shouldn’t be here,” Vanessa stammered out. She was staring at Evelyn from the entrance. Her hair was loose around her shoulders and her makeup was wiped away. If not for the bandages around her chest and her shallow breathing, she could’ve been sleeping peacefully. She looked too vulnerable for Vanessa to see. Bucky should’ve been here, not her.

“Miss Price, I suggest-”

“I shouldn’t be here,” she insisted once more before turning and rushing out, her head down. Almost as soon as she exited the tent, she smacked into someone solidly.

“Is Evelyn awake?” Vanessa looked up to see Bucky standing in front of her, his blue eyes clouded with emotion. In all their time together, he’d never looked so scared and worried.

“No. But she’s out of surgery. She can have two visitors-” In the middle of her sentence, Bucky looked towards the entrance of the tent before striding in, completely ignoring the rest of what she was saying. She didn’t take offense to it though; if she was in Bucky’s shoes, she’d do the same thing.

Vanessa stared at the flaps of the tent for a few moments before turning and walking to the tent that she shared with Evelyn. The walk was slow and long and gray, the cloudy sky above sucking out what little color was on the base. She passed soldiers and commanding officers who paid her no mind. It was as though she was invisible.

Finally reaching her tent, she ducked inside just as the rain started. She slipped off the boots she reserved for missions and set them neatly under her bed next to her heels. The clock on her vanity told her that it was only five in the evening, not even time for dinner yet, but she felt an emotional exhaustion deep in her bones.

As she took down her hair, she saw in the mirror that her makeup was smeared, her eyeliner smudged and her mascara ringed underneath her eyes. And no one had told her. Vanessa sighed deeply as she removed it. It felt cleansing to take off her makeup and the clothes she’d worn that day. She slipped into her pajamas and perched on her bed, clutching a pillow to her chest.

Throughout their time together, Vanessa made a point to interact with Evelyn as little as possible. They were not here to be friends; they were here for competing companies and in competing interests. Despite that, Evelyn was still kind and understanding, giving Vanessa her space when she sensed she needed it and edging slightly closer when Vanessa allowed her to.

Evelyn’s attempts at friendship aside, Vanessa knew very little about her outside of her relationships to their mutual… well, friends wasn’t the right word, was it? Her gaze fell on the opposite side of the tent where Evelyn’s things were.

Evelyn’s trunk at the foot of her bed was open, revealing some blue swaths of cloth, presumably dresses. She had two pairs of heels sitting next to each other next to the trunk. Her vanity was messy with her makeup and hairpins splayed about. The mirror had pictures shoved into the frame: pictures of Evelyn and the commandos, pictures of Bucky, pictures of Evelyn with her brother.

It was obvious how Evelyn cherished life and the adventures it gave her. It was obvious how she loved with her whole heart. It was obvious how she was loved in return.

Vanessa looked to her own side of the tent, her eyes tearing up. Everything was put away in its place. She had no pictures. She didn’t even remember the last time she’d taken a photo with a friend. She’d been on base with the Howling Commandos for almost five months and still couldn’t consider any of them more than professional acquaintances.

The closest person she had to a friend was Evelyn. Suddenly, Vanessa regretted everything she’d ever said to her. Every fake grin, every roll of her eyes, every dismissive remark, she wanted to take it all back.

She could feel the sobs building her chest but she staunchly forced them down.

“Calm down… calm down…” she whispered as her chin trembled and her grip tightened on the pillow. A few tears escaped her and she was quick to wipe them away. Staving off what was sure to be a full breakdown, Vanessa quickly got up and shut off the lights in her tent before returning to her bed and burying her head under the covers.

Within minutes, exhaustion, both emotional and physical, overtook her and she fell asleep.

\---

Steve and Bucky were sitting on either side of Evelyn’s bed, quietly talking, conversing about possibly reaching out to her brother and telling him what happened. They'd been there for several hours and she had yet to wake or move. 

Bucky’s gaze was shifting between her face and Steve’s concerned expression. He let out a heavy sigh and gently laid a hand on the brown blanket that covered Evelyn’s body. He yearned to grasp her hand but held back for fear of waking or disturbing her.

Something shifted slightly in Evelyn’s breathing, her chest beginning to labor with the effort it took to breathe. Her brow knit together as she opened her eyes. She looked confused and in pain. A small cough escaped her and she began to struggle to sit up.

“It’s okay,” Steve started, “You don’t have to say anything.” Bucky’s chest was tight as she shifted to sit up fully. He leaned forwards, his hand clutching at the blanket, waiting to see what she said and did.

She coughed again. Her chest was now heaving. Evelyn brought up a pale hand to cough into and it came away bloodstained. Bucky shouted for the doctors and nurses to help, unable to tear his gaze away from Evelyn; all he could do was watch. He reached out to touch her, to let her know that he was there, that she wasn’t alone. Her coughs had subsided but blood was now freely flowing down her chin, stark against her pale skin.

Someone grabbed his arm and yanked him backwards, away from Evelyn. Medics surrounded the bed, calling for different things, creating a cacophony in the tent. They obstructed his vision and he allowed himself to be pulled out of the tent into the cold night.

The cold air felt like a slap in the face. His shaky exhales turned to mist in front of him. Bucky bit down hard on his bottom lip to keep it from trembling. All he could see in his mind’s eye was the blood, too bright on Evelyn’s pale complexion, soaking her shirt, covering his hands.

“Bucky, we need to go to bed,” Steve said softly.

“How are any of us supposed to sleep when she’s-” He cut himself off and looked off to the side, gazing down towards the barracks where his friends were sleeping.

“How are any of us supposed to be there for her when we’re all dead on our feet?” Bucky couldn’t argue with that, after all. He felt simultaneously wired and exhausted. He knew that he needed to sleep and regain his energy. If anything happened, if she woke up or… anything else happened, someone would come get him. He had to trust that she’d make it through the night.

“Let’s go,” he said softly. He started off towards the barracks without waiting to see if Steve was following. A fine mist had settled over the camp, dampening Bucky’s hair, causing it to fall into his eyes. He brushed it back as he entered the tent and was faced with the sight of his comrades still awake, seemingly at different stages of getting ready for bed.

“How is she?” Dugan asked softly. Every word hit Bucky in the chest.

“Struggling,” he said with a somber look. “But I want everyone to get some sleep.” They wordlessly nodded and began continuing their bedtime routines. Bucky barely got himself to change into his pajamas before climbing into bed and pulling the blanket up over his shoulder, fighting the urge to hide his head away from the world.

The lights flicked off. He sighed deeply, his hand fisting into the blanket. He remembered those nights where he’d lay with Evelyn, listening to her drift off before he did. Her body, soft and warm, would mold to his as though she was made to be there.    


On the good nights, he fell asleep at peace with her wrapped up in him. On the bad nights, they woke up to each other with soothing words and soft touches.

This was a bad night and they were what felt like miles apart. Bucky shifted to lay on his back, staring up at the cloth ceiling of their barracks. He felt like crying. He felt like shouting. He felt like going to sleep and not waking up until Evelyn was laying next to him. He bit down hard on his bottom lip to keep it from trembling, knowing that if he started now, his friends would certainly hear him.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. Bucky rolled out of bed, slipped his boots on, and exited the tent. The night was beginning to clear up, the clouds parting and dissipating over his head. A half moon shone down brightly on him.

He remembered the night very similar to this one where he’d seen Evelyn on the old base he used to be stationed at with the 107th. He’d had a nightmare, one much less intense than the ones he’d come to know, but a nightmare nonetheless. Eager to shake off the dream, he’d taken a stroll around the base, ducking into the shadow of a tent to stop and breathe deeply.

Then he saw her. Evelyn was walking seemingly aimlessly, obviously distracted by something in her head. The moonlight had turned her dark hair almost black. She was strolling slowly along, her pale pajama pants swishing around her legs underneath her black coat.

He’d called her name, inadvertently making her jump. She’d looked so vulnerable and scared. It was different from when they were on the ridge. On the ridge, she’d looked determined; now, she looked on the verge of tears.

He’d held her in his arms and he knew at that moment that letting go wasn’t going to be easy. Not just letting go of her physically, but the next day when she was going to fly back to New York, he had to let go of her then too. He had to let go of her when he went back to the battlefield and left her alone in that tiny London apartment. It almost tore him in half to do that.

He couldn’t let go of her again. She had to survive. If she didn’t… 

Bucky slowly looked up at his surroundings, finding that he had wandered all the way to the medical tent. He reached out with a trembling hand to pull back the flap of the tent but he stopped before he could grab it. His chest was growing tight with the effort it took to keep a sob from escaping. His fingers curled into a fist and he let his hand drop.

It was time for him to sleep. Just how Evelyn needed her energy to heal, he did too. Steve was right; if he was dead on his feet, he couldn’t be there for his best girl. He’d be back in the morning.

He quickly made his way back to his barracks and slipped inside. If any of his friends noticed that he was gone, they didn’t say anything as he took off his boots and laid back down. He pulled the blanket up to his chin and closed his eyes. Whether it took minutes or hours, Bucky fell asleep, clutching onto the blanket, hoping and praying that Evelyn was there for him to wake up to.

\---

Evelyn didn’t wake nor did she stir for the next few days. Bucky and the rest of the squad were bound to their duties as soldiers but Vanessa wasn’t. She took it upon herself to go and sit with Evelyn for hours at a time, having asked Steve and Bucky first to make sure she wasn’t stepping on any toes. When she’d asked, they’d given her strange looks.

They weren’t idiots; they knew of her and Evelyn’s tense relationship. But perhaps they saw in her genuine remorse and guilt for her attitude towards Evelyn. 

Vanessa sat with Evelyn for maybe an hour or two on the second day of her unconscious state with a book in her lap. Every few pages, her dark brown eyes would flick over to Evelyn, making sure she hadn’t missed any shift or movement. She stayed as still as ever. Eventually, Vanessa began reading aloud.

It was a worn copy of Jane Eyre that Vanessa’s mother had given her before sending her off to college. Why she began reading out loud, she couldn’t quite say. She just had a vague sense that Evelyn would appreciate the story, especially Jane’s character.

On the second day of sitting at her bedside, reading Jane Eyre aloud, one of the doctors walked over to the foot of the bed and sighed. Vanessa quickly fell silent, expecting to be reprimanded for being noisy but he began speaking.

“She’s developed a fever,” he stated. Vanessa nodded. She guessed that when she walked in that morning and spotted the cold compress on Evelyn’s forehead. A nurse had changed it a few times but other than that, everything had seemed normal.

“Will she be okay?” Vanessa asked.

“I hope so. She’s fighting hard.”

“She’s got a lot to fight for,” Vanessa said softly, gazing down at her book. The doctor looked down at her and smiled.

“It’s kind of you to read to her. A lot of people, here and back home, don’t have people to do that for them.” Vanessa didn’t quite know what to say so she settled on nodding and grinning without it reaching her eyes.  Kind was one word for it. A part of Vanessa definitely was doing it for the selfish reason of easing her own conscience.

Evelyn’s shoulders suddenly shook and she rattled out a sigh, her brow furrowing. Vanessa snapped the book shut and leaned forwards, expecting her to open her eyes. Nothing happened.

“She’s cold. It’s a side effect of the fever,” the doctor explained. Vanessa sighed and nodded; every tiny shift, every miniscule movement, every heavy sigh or change in her breathing left her wondering if Evelyn was finally going to wake up. At least, that’s what she hoped would happen. She refused to even entertain the idea of Evelyn not waking.

“Price,” someone said from behind her. She turned and saw Bucky standing there with two trays of food. As if on cue, she became painfully aware of the grumbling in her stomach. It was now late afternoon and she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He passed one to her and sat down on the other side of Evelyn’s bed.

His blue eyes were stormy and dark. Vanessa’s fingers twitched with the urge to grab her camera and film. He was the perfect picture of despair and hopelessness; it would’ve served as a great metaphor for the war.

“How is she?” he asked the doctor without looking away from Evelyn’s face. He hadn’t seen her in a day or two. He hadn’t seen her shivering or the way she was flushed on the tops of her cheeks. To an onlooker, Evelyn seemed to have a bad bout of the flu but the white bandages peeking out from underneath her shirt ruined the illusion.

The doctor gave Bucky the same information that he’d given Vanessa before walking away to care for another wounded soldier. Gently, Vanessa placed her book on the nightstand and began to eat her meal, balancing the tray in her lap.

“You’re reading to her?” Bucky asked gruffly. Vanessa nodded. Her gaze was fixed somewhere over Evelyn’s left shoulder, boring a hole into her pillow. “You’ve never liked her.”

“I know.”

“It is a book she’d like though,” Bucky said with a sideways look at the battered cover.

“You know your classics?” He nodded and placed his tray on the other nightstand. Vanessa glanced at it; he’d barely touched his meal. She had a feeling that was commonplace these days.

Bucky reached out and gently laid his hand on top of Evelyn’s. He gazed down at the blue veins winding their way across her hand, emphasized under the bright bulbs in the infirmary tent. He breathed a shaky sigh. It was the most unsteady she’d ever seen him.

When Vanessa was first filming the Howling Commandos for her documentary, the men had told her about Evelyn. How she was brave and headstrong and, above all, curious. She’d seen Bucky talk about her wistfully but never for very long; he didn’t seem to want to dwell on her absence.

When she’d arrived, Bucky had become a new person overnight. He was still the sarcastic, funny man she had come to know but now the weight of the world no longer sat on his shoulders. Evelyn was there to share the burden.

When Bucky gripped onto Evelyn’s hand with both of his, Vanessa looked away, pretending not to see it.

“Thank you for lunch,” she said, standing to leave. Bucky nodded without tearing his eyes away from Evelyn’s face. She turned and walked out of the tent. The sun was low in the sky but despite the orange glow, the base was freezing. She shoved her hands into her coat pockets and trudged on through the base, hoping that when Evelyn woke up, she wouldn’t have to wake to this frigid, colorless landscape.

\---

_ “I’ll never smile again until I smile at you…” _

_ Evelyn was standing in the kitchen of the London apartment, humming along to Tommy Dorsey on the radio. It felt like she’d been standing there for months as she prepared herself a small meal of chicken and pasta. _

_ “Listen, Ev… Ev, are you actually listening to me?” _

_ “Hm?” she hummed. Turning around, she saw that Will was sitting on the couch in a military uniform with a hat on his neatly combed black hair. Wh… what? Evelyn shook her head slightly, trying to clear it, feeling as though she was moving through water. Will grinned at her before shaking the newspaper he was holding. _

_ “Some photojournalist died in Italy on the front lines. She was so young too,” he remarked, returning his green gaze to the paper. _

_ "What was her name?” Evelyn asked as she tried to take a few steps forwards. She stumbled once and ended up crashing into the kitchen table, catching herself on a chair. Her breathing was becoming labored. It was starting to hurt her chest. _

_ “Evelyn.” _

_ “Yes?” she asked, responding to her name. Drip… drip… Evelyn looked down at her hand to see two bright red spots on it. Blood. When she looked back up to Will, he was gone. Bucky sat on the couch instead. _

_ “Bucky…” she breathed as she tried to stand. _

_ He neatly folded the paper before setting it on the coffee table. Standing up straight, he held a hand out which Evelyn gratefully reached for. _

_ “I don’t feel so good, Bucky,” she mumbled. The pain in her chest was growing unbearable. She gripped onto his hand and leaned into him but he did nothing to help stabilize her. _

_ “That’s because you’re bleeding, love,” he said as though it was obvious. Evelyn looked up at him, his features swimming in her vision. She breathed in to speak again and leaned backwards to look at Bucky properly. _

_ Just as she straightened up, the world tilted violently and she fell to the side. Warped floorboards rushed up at her face. For a moment she was weightless… _

And then she opened her eyes. Evelyn looked around slowly, taking in her surroundings. While she no longer felt as though she was moving through molasses, she still felt the weight that only sleeping for too long can bring.

This was the medical tent on base. With every inhale, the clearer everything became, including the searing sensation in her chest. Evelyn reached a hand up to assess the situation. Her hand met a thick layer of bandages on the right side of her chest.

“Oh,” she mumbled as she remembered groggily the events that took place in the forest. It still hurt. It still hurt badly but it was manageable; she was no longer unable to breathe or move or think.

Evelyn opened her eyes wider and looked around, craning her neck slightly. The tent was dark, save for a light over at the back that illuminated a desk where a woman sat. A radio was playing softly somewhere in the distance. It was cold. Or she was cold. She couldn’t tell.

“Hey,” she called. The woman looked up and squinted into the darkness. “Hey,” Evelyn called again. The woman stood and she could see that she was wearing a nurse’s uniform underneath a heavy coat. She bustled over to pull out the chart sitting at the foot of Evelyn’s bed.

“Miss Thomas-”

“What day is it?” she asked, interrupting the nurse. The nurse flipped through the pages on the clipboard before looking back up at Evelyn.

“November 4th.” Evelyn let out a shaky sigh. The day they went on their excursion, the day she’d been shot, had been October 30th. She’d lost nearly a week. “I need to take your vitals,” the nurse stated before sitting down in a chair next to the bed.

Evelyn stared down the nurse who was counting her pulse and listening to her heart and her breathing. She looked weary in the way that everyone on base looked weary. Maybe now Evelyn had taken on that appearance; just thinking about losing her spark and curiosity scared her.

“What time is it?” Evelyn asked, changing her train of thought to something else.

“It’s about… 4:30 in the morning.” She sighed and nodded. It was too early in the morning to see Bucky. She didn’t want to wake him up and take him out of a much needed sleep. She wondered if he was still having nightmares.

“The soldiers are due to wake up at 5:30 if you’d like to see Sergeant Barnes,” the nurse stated, removing her stethoscope from Evelyn’s chest.

“How did you-”

“He comes whenever he can. He takes all his meals in here. If we didn’t forbid him from sleeping in here, he’d do that too,” the nurse stated. Evelyn chuckled lightly and immediately hissed in pain. The nurse stood with a small smile. “I think you should get some rest.”

“I’ve been unconscious for five days, I think I’m done resting,” Evelyn stated. The nurse shrugged and sighed but kept a small easy smile on her face anyways. She nodded and walked away, back to the desk she was sitting at.

Evelyn leaned back, shifting and trying to adjust the pillows so she could sit up without the metal bars of the bed digging into her back. Upon reaching backwards with her right arm, simply on instinct, her chest screamed in pain. She grunted softly before letting her arm fall. This, she knew, was the start of another long, hard road.

Despite her insistence that she didn’t want to rest anymore, she couldn’t help but drift off into a state between waking and sleeping. She floated in that half-darkness before someone turned on the light in the tent, the bulbs flickering to life above her. With a soft ‘hm,’ Evelyn turned her head towards the entrance of the tent.

“Good to see you’re awake, Miss Thomas,” the doctor stated as he strolled towards her. She nodded and grinned tiredly. Her grogginess was mostly gone but she still felt a bone-deep exhaustion.

“Thanks for, uh… this,” she said as light-heartedly as she could, gesturing to the bandages on her chest. The doctor grinned. He was an older man with graying hair and kind hazel eyes, a white doctor’s coat over his shirt and suspenders.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Cold, mostly,” Evelyn stated. Almost as if on cue, a shiver shook her shoulders and wound its way down her spine. The doctor, Christiansen as his breast pocket read, nodded sympathetically. He motioned for the nurse who’d taken care of her earlier and she walked around the tent, taking a blanket from the empty bed next to her.

“You’re still running a fever unfortunately. But now you’re awake so we can start getting some solid food and other liquids in you,” he said as the nurse wrapped the blanket around Evelyn’s shoulders.

“I don’t have an infection, do I?” Evelyn asked. Christiansen’s gaze flitted around her face. He was most likely deciding how much information she could handle first thing waking up. Evelyn tried her best to look determined, focused, and serious despite the fact that she was beginning to feel the urge to drift off again. 

He must’ve made his decision because he said, “Your body’s fighting it off.”

“So the answer is yes,” Evelyn deadpanned.

“The answer is that you’ll be fine.”

“I certainly hope so,” she replied with a raised eyebrow. Christiansen let out a small chuckle. He nodded at the nurse who walked back to the various desks and tables in the back of the tent and began fiddling with something she couldn’t see.

“There are going to be a lot of people that are happy you’re awake,” Christiansen said as he moved to a bed a few down from hers. He leaned over to do a quick check of the patient and apparently didn’t see anything warranting his immediate attention as he wandered farther down the tent.

Now that the lights were on, it was apparent that Evelyn’s space around her bed was used to being occupied. There was a chair on either side of the bed. The nightstand to her right had a sketchbook with a pencil and eraser laying on top of it. A small metal piece of… something sat next to it. Evelyn chuckled as she imagined Jacques tinkering away while sitting next to her, telling her stories in French even though she couldn’t hear them.

On the other nightstand, there was a well-loved copy of Jane Eyre. She tilted her head before reaching over to grab it. There was a bookmark about a third of the way in. She opened the book and began to skim the pages, not really understanding anything plot-wise but the characters’ names sounded familiar to her.

She gently placed the book back on the nightstand as the flaps of the tent were pulled back and a man ducked in, holding a tray of food. There were dark circles under his stormy blue eyes as though he hadn’t been getting enough sleep lately.

“Hey, Bucky,” Evelyn said. He stopped dead in his tracks not even three steps into the tent. At first, his gaze was disbelieving before it melted away into relief and what Evelyn could only describe as adoration.

“Evelyn,” he breathed before rushing over and setting the tray down on the nightstand, shoving the sketchbook and metal pieces aside, before he sat down. She reached up and placed a hand on his cheek, stroking her thumb back and forth. Bucky was looking at her in wonder, as though she had just shown him the light of the sun. His hand laid on top of hers where it rested on his cheek.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“I should be asking you that,” Bucky said, his voice thick with emotion.

“I’m just tired,” she sighed. Bucky opened his mouth, mostly likely to tell her to rest, but she cut him off and asked, “How have you been sleeping?”

“Is it that obvious?” he mumbled, casting his gaze down to the army green blanket covering her legs. Evelyn paused for a moment to think about her next words, now regretting having asked.

“Only to me,” she said with a soft smile. “Hey,” she said when he didn’t look up at her. When he did, she was surprised to find his eyes filled with tears.

“I didn’t know if I’d get you back,” he admitted. He raised his free hand to wipe at his eyes before any tears could fall. She had only seen him like this a handful of times and it was only a side of himself that he ever showed to her. This aching, vulnerable side that twisted her heart and her stomach at the same time.

“I’m here now,” she said, leaning forwards to rest her forehead against his. They stayed like that for several moments, breathing each other in, silently relishing each other’s touch. Evelyn leaned back and sighed contentedly as she moved her hand finally to brush at Bucky’s hair that was beginning to fall into his eyes.

“Think I need a haircut?” he asked with that same charming smile coming back slowly.

“I actually think you’d look good with long hair,” Evelyn said. Bucky snorted and rolled his eyes.

“I would never,” he replied, leaning in to peck her once on the lips. Evelyn’s heart soared like it always did when they kissed. Their little bubble that surrounded them burst when Christiansen strolled over and tucked his hands into his coat pockets.

“Alright, Miss Thomas, feel like having some breakfast?” She nodded gratefully and sank back into her pillows, clutching onto the blanket around her shoulders. “Sergeant, would you be willing to get her something from the mess hall?”

“Of course,” he said with a nod, serious when facing the doctor but tossing Evelyn a wink when he turned back to her. She smiled and snuggled further down into her blankets, trying to fight off the ever-present chill that was seeping in. Bucky exited the tent and Christiansen walked over to another patient who was stirring, leaving her alone.

Try as she might, she could not fight off the yawns that kept coming one after another. She didn’t even remember closing her eyes. Bucky was back within ten minutes but it didn’t matter; Evelyn had fallen fast asleep. He smiled softly and took his spot on her right side, ready for when she would wake up again.


	9. Hearts Full of Love

_ “ _ _ There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.” - Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey _

* * *

Evelyn was sitting at a desk under a gazebo that she had been loaned before her injury, not having utilized it much until just recently, having preferred to sit with the commandos in their barracks in a more casual setting. Her leg was bouncing slightly with the need to get up and move but she staunchly pushed it down; this piece needed to get written.

“What did the doctor say about eating, Evie?”

“To do it more,” she mumbled in reply, not needing to look up to know who it was. Bucky placed a tray of food on top of the notebook she was writing in. She looked up with a scowl and he flinched jokingly before sitting down across from her with his own tray.

“Someone’s cranky,” Bucky chuckled. Evelyn sighed, trying to loosen her shoulders and unclench her jaw.

“I just… I’m not making as much progress as I should.”

“Well, baby, you were shot. I think your boss would give you a bit of reprieve,” he said placatingly. Evelyn snorted and rolled her eyes.

“You obviously don’t know my boss.” Bucky reached forwards and took the notebook away from her, turning her typewriter away from her as well.

“Come on. Eat. Relax. The assignment will still be there in half an hour.” A heavy sigh escaped Evelyn again but she nodded. She had to keep herself healthy in order to heal. Speaking of which… She reached up to scratch at her bandages again, her unmanicured nails scraping unpleasantly over her white button down. Bucky swallowed a bite before jerking his chin at her and saying, “Quit it.”

“Quit what? I wasn’t doing anything,” she denied as she dropped her hand. Bucky grinned at her before shoving another bite into his mouth. They made conversation over Evelyn’s work and the interviews she’d been conducting. She had just finished her interview with Falsworth earlier that day and learned some very interesting tidbits about him.

“He has a mansion? Where?” Bucky asked incredulously.

“Hertfordshire,” Evelyn said, just as intrigued as he was.

“Bastard never said anything to me,” he mumbled.

“Did he ever mention being married? Apparently she’s beautiful and also rich,” she chuckled, polishing off the rest of the bread on her tray. Bucky scoffed and leaned back in his chair. He looked particularly handsome that day, Evelyn thought. The sky was overcast and dreary but it only brought out the blue in his eyes more. She was so busy staring that she missed his next sentence.

“Evie, you with me?” he asked. She jerked back to the present and nodded. The coy smirk on Bucky’s face told her that he knew exactly what she was thinking of. “I don’t think you’re going to make much more progress today anyways.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Evelyn groaned, pushing a hand into her hair. That day was when her stitches were getting removed. She still had about a month to go before she was fully healed and able to have a full range of motion again but if the stitches stayed in any longer, there’d be a higher chance of infection.

“I’ll be there with you the whole time,” Bucky promised as he reached out to grasp her free hand. She turned her palm face up to stroke her thumb across the back of his hand. They had been talking about this for a few days now, what to anticipate, whether she would be in pain, if she started bleeding again. He was just as nervous as Evelyn was.

“Thanks, Bucky,” she said softly. They sat like that for a few moments, savoring the quiet between them.

“Alright,” he sighed, “I’ll get you at 1830, okay?”

“Can you just speak English?” she joked, still holding his hand as he stood. He grinned down at her.

“6:30.”

“6:30,” she confirmed. “I’ll see you then.” Bucky left, taking the trays with him. Evelyn watched him leave before letting out a sigh that was both content and wistful. He made her heart ache in the best way. Looking back down at her desk, she began to reorganize her workstation with the intent of getting more work done.

As her hands hovered over the typewriter, however, she knew that would be impossible. Her creative drive and work ethic was being impacted by her anxieties. Realistically, she knew that nothing was going to happen today. She was going to go to the medical tent, get her stitches removed, and have a nightcap with Bucky after it was all over.

Still, she couldn’t help that small part of her mind whispering to her. Whispering that she was going to be in pain again. That she’d tear open her wounds. That her blood would soak her hands again.

Evelyn shook her head violently, setting her hands down on either side of the typewriter, her nails digging slightly into the wood. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. That seemed to help. When she opened her eyes again, she saw Dugan and Jim making their way towards her workstation.

“Hey, Evelyn!” Dugan called, his boisterous voice causing heads to turn. Evelyn waved back and forced a grin. She’d already interviewed both of them in the week prior but was still working on their individual pieces.

“How are you today, Dugan?” she asked when they were close enough for her to speak without shouting.

“I’m good,” he replied before sitting down in the chair Bucky had just left unoccupied. Dugan slid out a manila folder from his coat before passing it to her. “Your first round of pictures just got developed. Figured I’d hand deliver them so you could see my pretty face today.”

Despite the turning in her stomach, she couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped past her lips. Dugan’s comments, even in the thick of battle, always served to make her smile. Jim, however, was watching her closely, looking for the changes in her expression.

Keeping her face as level as she could, Evelyn opened the thick folder. The first few photos seemed to be test shots, mostly focused on the forest and landscape. The next ones were of the men surrounding the back of a truck with Steve showing them their path through the forest. A close up shot of Steve’s compass with Peggy’s portrait in it made her grin.

She wondered how Peggy was doing these days. Most likely she could just ask Steve and embarrass the hell out of him in the process. Her mind flashed back to the night before Bucky left with the Howling Commandos, when Peggy followed her out of the bar. Briefly, Evelyn wished she could get to know Peggy Carter a little bit better before her assignment was over.

“That’s a good photo,” Jim stated as she passed several photos off to the side. She looked down at what he’d commented on. It was a picture of the commandos crowding together in the back of a truck, weapons tucked behind them, all grinning. The photo right behind that one included Vanessa and her video camera. She looked slightly embarrassed to be put in front of the camera instead of behind it but was smiling nonetheless.

“A lot of these won’t make it to the final product,” Evelyn commented idly as she picked her way through more photos. “Too unprofessional.”

“What’s unprofessional about this one?” Dugan asked, reaching out to point at one where him and Falsworth were clinking two bottles of wine together. Evelyn grinned at the photo. She’d snapped it on a whim, never intending for it to go anywhere but one of their homes after the war was over.

“I really am gonna miss you guys when this is all over,” Evelyn remarked softly, so softly that she wasn’t sure if Dugan and Jim heard her.

“We’re not going anywhere,” Jim reassured. She set down the photo and decided to look at the rest of them later, beginning to tuck them back into the folder.

“You’re certainly not moving to New York. What, are we all gonna share an apartment together?” she said with a slight chuckle. Dugan chortled but Jim’s face remained impassive. “Can you imagine? All eight of us in a Manhattan apartment?”

“I dunno. Sounds better than Fresno,” Jim said before finally cracking a smile. Evelyn felt as though that was more out of an obligation to make her feel better than actually finding her joke funny.

“Alright, get outta here. Some of us have real work to do,” Evelyn lightly remarked. The men said their goodbyes before heading to another part of the base, presumably with more responsibilities to be taken care of. 

She sat there for another few minutes with her chin in her hand, staring out at how the clouds were shifting in the sky, allowing for beams of sunlight to stream through every so often. In her fake scenario of all of them living together, she’d included Vanessa. Evelyn and Vanessa had known each other for not even two months and those had been a rocky two months at best. Yet, life on base didn’t seem right without her; she was a fixture now.

Bucky had told her that Vanessa sat by her bedside for several days, reading Jane Eyre aloud to her. Evelyn had mixed feelings about it. On one hand, it was an incredibly tender gesture, one of friendship. On another hand, it showed that Vanessa had a guilty conscience and she didn’t want her friendship to be born out of obligation and guilt.

The two women had yet to speak since she’d woken up a full two weeks ago. When Evelyn went into the tent to get ready for bed, both of them having done their jobs on separate areas of the base, they avoided eye contact and said nothing. The tension between them was thick; Evelyn was quickly growing weary of it. She was just wishing for an olive branch to appear, preferably extended by Vanessa.

There were too many thoughts swirling through Evelyn’s head at the moment, almost causing a pounding pressure behind her eyes. She raked her hand through her brown curls once more, surely mussing them, before her eyes fell to the manila folder in front of her again.

Her work on the interview pieces could be done for the day, she decided as she opened the folder and took out a rarely used fountain pen. She had a new mission. Over the next couple of hours, she finished going through the whole giant stack of photos, sorting them into several piles.

One pile was for throwaways. One pile was to send to the editors. One pile was what she was mainly focused on: the photos where the commandos and Vanessa and Evelyn were smiling and goofing off. 

The photo of Falsworth and Dugan drinking wine. A photo of Steve and Bucky laughing in front of Vanessa’s camera. A photo of Gabe, Jim, and Vanessa playing poker in the barracks. Evelyn turned each photo over to write on the back of who was in the photo, what they were doing, and when it was taken.

The last one she wrote on was her favorite out of the bunch, a rare instance where Evelyn was in front of the camera instead of behind it. She was perched on this very desk with Bucky leaning beside her, both of them examining a picture Evelyn was holding up. They were both grinning. At what, she couldn’t remember for the life of her but the picture warmed her heart anyways.

_ Bucky and Evelyn, September, 1944 _

As she packed everything up, Bucky waved at her from down the row of tents. She raised her arm to wave back and smiled. This time, it was genuine. Her new little project had done a lot to ease her anxieties and put her in a better mood. Just in time for her to head to the medical tent again.

“You ready?” Bucky asked, shoving his hands in his trouser pockets as she finished closing her notebooks and tucking them under her arm.

“Yeah.”

“Get a lot of work done?” Evelyn’s smile turned into a softer grin.

“I did.”

\---

“This shouldn’t hurt but let me know if it does,” Christiansen stated as he leaned closer to Evelyn, brandishing a small pair of sharp scissors and a pair of tweezers. She nodded, bracing herself. She was sitting on the edge of one of the beds in the medical tent. Her shirt and bra strap were hanging off her right shoulder so as to allow for better access to her stitches.

Bucky was slightly off to the side of her, ready to reach out to comfort her if something happened. While both of them radiated nervous energy, Christiansen was the perfect picture of calm.

“Okay, I’m starting now,” he said quietly. Evelyn, refusing to look down at her injury, both heard the snips of the scissors and the tug of the thread. He was right; it didn’t hurt much at all. It didn’t stop her from picking at her nails in her lap.

The smell of the antiseptic he’d used and the cold feeling of metal on her skin was making her jumpy and uneasy. She looked over at Bucky who looked up from her wound comfortingly. He reached out and wound his hand through both of hers, effectively stopping her from tearing her cuticles to shreds.

“Alright, don’t move,” Christiansen said as he leaned back and placed the tools he was using on a tray at the foot of the bed. Her heart stopped at the thought that he was stopping because something went wrong. She glanced down and breathed a shaky sigh when she saw the wound.

It was a dark line against her otherwise pale skin but there was no blood and no pain. Christiansen leaned back towards her with a roll of thin white bandages.

“These are just to ensure that we don’t rip anything open.”

“Isn’t that what the stitches were for?” Christiansen grinned again. While other grown men on the base found her questions and her pushes back against authority aggravating, he seemed to enjoy her wit.

“Well, yes. You’re technically right. But right now the skin is very weak and needs to heal itself without the help of the stitches now. Hence… the bandages,” he replied, focusing on applying the strips. They were very sticky and pulled unpleasantly at her skin, causing her to grimace. 

“Alright,” she grumbled unhappily. She tried to ease her mind by reminding herself that this was necessary to heal. She needed to go through all of this to get better. 

Evelyn sighed heavily as Christiansen leaned back and placed the bandages back on the tray. He was done. She could breathe fully again. He began lecturing her on proper care of her wound, saying not to mess with the bandages, and other activities and sports she shouldn’t engage in.

“Don’t worry,” Evelyn said as she shrugged her clothes back onto her shoulder and began buttoning up her shirt, “I’m not much of a sports gal anyways.”

“You’re telling me that you’re done pitching for the Yankees?” Bucky joked, color coming back into his face now that the procedure was done.

“Oh, please, everyone knows that the Red Sox are better,” Evelyn said with a roll of her eyes before impishly making a face at Bucky. Evelyn knew next to nothing about sports but she knew of Bucky’s loathing for the Sox which she loved to poke fun at.

“Some things shouldn’t be joked about, Evie,” Bucky warned with an air of false solemnity. Evelyn chuckled before sliding off the bed to stand up, reaching around Bucky for her brown aviator jacket. She’d been wearing the thing when she was shot but it was too comfortable and expensive for her to just let go of. Bucky, while she’d been unconscious, had been kind enough to get it washed for her.

She slid it on and prepared to walk out into the dreary day. Bucky was right next to her, holding the tent flap open for her, his presence steadying her. They walked along, the sounds of daily life on base floating out from the tents they passed. Evelyn was briefly surprised at how accustomed she had become to living here.

The new soldiers that had just been shipped out jogged along in formation, dripping with both sweat and rainwater from the shower that had just ended. They strolled past the dog trainers and their pups with Evelyn barely containing herself from cooing at the dogs. Nurses emerged from the mess hall with their own coats on to drive away the chill, talking and laughing with each other. Evelyn waved hello and they waved back.

Not to say that she particularly enjoyed military life. The food was bland, everyone looked tired all the time, everything was constantly desaturated by the gray sky overhead. She wasn’t fond of waking up at 5:30 every morning and going to bed past ten. In fact, if she was assigned to a regular military unit who had to abide by the standard military regulations, she was certain she’d hate it. Being with the Howling Commandos offered her a freedom she wouldn’t necessarily get otherwise.

“Evie? Are you listening to me?” Evelyn suddenly snapped back to the present and looked up to Bucky who was watching her with an amused grin.

“What did you say?” she asked.

“Well, I’d been talking to you for about five minutes but you didn’t seem interested,” he said as their walk took them to the edge of the base. The forest loomed closer and closer until it was almost on top of them.

“I’m sorry, Bucky. I was just…”

“Thinking,” he finished for her, “It’s okay. You look cute when you’re focused.” Evelyn smiled at him and reached out to link their fingers together. His hand was bigger than hers, callused where hers was not, fingers long and graceful as though he should’ve been playing an instrument instead of firing a gun.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she teased. Bucky let out a short chuckle, leaning his head back to look at the clouds above.

“God, I love you,” he said softly. Evelyn stopped in her tracks, her arm being yanked forwards when Bucky tried to keep walking. She stared at the back of his head, his hair slowly becoming damp as a light mist started up.

“You what?” Evelyn breathed. Bucky set his shoulders before turning to face her. He looked determined to say what he needed to say, his jaw steeled and his eyes betraying every emotion behind them.

“I love you.” He took the two steps he needed to be back in front of her, their hands still locked together in between them, and reached his free hand up to cup her cheek. “I love you so much,” he practically whispered.

Evelyn’s chest hitched with a sudden sob. She closed her eyes, trying to fight against the tears threatening to overflow.

“Evelyn, say something,” Bucky said, his thumb swiping across her cheekbone ever so gently. She opened her watery eyes to see his concerned expression, his furrowed brow, and those blue, blue eyes so full of love.

“I have loved you for so long,” Evelyn replied on a shaky exhale. “Ever since that night in London, ever since I realized that if you left, you were taking so much of me with you. I loved you before then. I’ll keep loving you until the day I die.”

Bucky’s eyes were now growing glassy, a smile on his face. Evelyn let go of his hand to reach up and cup his face in her hands. She was shaking. From the cold or the overwhelming emotions inside of her, she couldn’t tell.

“I love you, Evelyn,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers.

“I love you, Bucky.” 

Then they were kissing and the sky opened up and the rain poured down on them. When they separated, they were both soaking wet and freezing but Evelyn couldn’t bring herself to mind much. Their exhales turned into mist when they leaned back and gazed at each other.

“Think anyone’s missing us about now?” Bucky asked.

“I don’t care,” she replied honestly with a smile. He gripped her arms and leaned in to give her a kiss on her forehead, tender and loving.

“Come on, we can’t have you catching pneumonia after all this,” Bucky said as he gripped her hand again. He started jogging forwards, taking Evelyn with him. She was giggling and smiling uncontrollably as they ran to the barracks which was on the way to Evelyn’s tent. 

Her heart was soaring in her chest. She felt as though she could fly. She wanted to laugh and cry out of pure joy. The war could end that very moment and it still wouldn’t compare to the elation she was feeling.

“I’ll see you before bed?” Bucky called breathlessly as they neared the barracks.

“Absolutely.”

“I love you,” Bucky said over the din of the rain.

“I love you too.” And then he ducked inside the tent, disappearing from her vision, leaving her alone to race back to her own tent. When she rushed inside, she was surprised to find Vanessa sitting on her bed, reading a book.

“Hi,” Evelyn breathed. Vanessa looked up with her impossibly dark eyes. The corners of her ruby lips twitched into the tiniest grin Evelyn had ever seen.

“You look happy.” The sentence wasn’t said with venom or hatred. It was said almost wistfully. Remembering Bucky’s confession, Evelyn couldn’t help but smile so wide that it hurt.

“I am happy.” Vanessa nodded before giving her a once over. She gnawed on her bottom lip, seeming to mull something over in her head. Evelyn shucked her aviator jacket and draped it over the chair at the vanity to dry.

“Do you…” Evelyn turned as she reached up to unbutton her shirt and change into something considerably drier. Vanessa was looking somewhere down by Evelyn’s muddy boots. “Do you need help with your hair?”

“My hair?” she questioned. A slight flush appeared high on Vanessa’s cheeks but she didn’t look up.

“Because of your chest, I figured it was hard to move that way.” An olive branch. Evelyn grinned softly and exhaled.

“I’d really appreciate that.” Vanessa finally looked up and nodded, her gaze travelling from Evelyn’s feet to her head once more.

“Just… change into something dry, okay?” They both chuckled at that. The warmth that Evelyn was carrying from her and Bucky’s interaction by the forest was now joined by a budding friendship. Small and fragile, but the start to a friendship nonetheless.

Evelyn changed into a dress of hers and sat down at Vanessa’s vanity, grimacing slightly when she caught sight of the mop that her hair had turned into. Vanessa’s delicate hands made quick work of the pins holding her curls in place before she reached to grab a brush from the opposite vanity.

“Ow,” Evelyn grumbled when Vanessa yanked the brush a bit too firmly through her wet hair.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, sounding genuine. Evelyn glanced up and once again wondered what exactly had happened to someone she regarded as a tentative enemy during the time she was unconscious. Brown eyes met Evelyn’s own green ones and they crinkled slightly with a grin.

Evelyn grinned back.

\---

The weeks passed. Evelyn healed. Her work grew nearer to completion. Her friendships deepened. Her love for Bucky grew and grew. There was one thing that she had left to do, however.

“I didn’t think you had to interview me,” Steve said with a lopsided smile. Evelyn sat in front of him in the barracks. She had told the other men to make themselves scarce for a good hour, wanting to have a casual setting so Steve would feel more comfortable. They were sitting on the same small bed, Evelyn’s legs crossed underneath her and her shoes sitting on the floor of the barracks.

“I have to interview everyone but especially you,” Evelyn joked. Over a year ago, she was bracing herself in the wings of a stage, ready to give him the news that Bucky was alive and safe. Never in her wildest dreams would she have ended up here with everything that’s happened.

“I have a lot of the basics from our time on the road together so this will be relatively short,” she said with a grin.

“Talking about myself has never been my strong suit,” Steve said as Evelyn reached over to turn the recorder on.

“Trust me, I know,” she chuckled. “This is Evelyn Thomas for  _ The New York Times  _ on December 20th, 1944. For the record, would you please state your name?”

“Steve Rogers.”

“Now, Steve, why were you so insistent on joining the army?” Steve’s blue eyes roved over her face as he gave her a half-amused grin. They had talked about this time and time again; Evelyn already knew the answer.

“I want to help people. I don’t like bullies, no matter where they’re from.” She nodded and scribbled in her notebook in her shorthand. She asked him about his home life, his friendships on the base, any funny stories he had to share. An easy smile sat on her face the whole time they talked. She knew the answers to these questions just as he would if he was interviewing her.

It surprised her sometimes, how close they were. Evelyn wouldn’t hesitate to call him her best friend. There were several nights on tour when they were airing their grievances about their lives that turned into emotional, teary conversations about the war and their families and what their lives would look like after this was over.

“Now, tell me, Steve. Everyone’s dying to know. Do you have a special girl somewhere out there?” Evelyn impishly asked. Steve reached in between them to turn the recording off but she batted his hand away. He let out a sigh, his shoulders falling with the exhale, before looking up past Evelyn. His gaze was far away as his thoughts drifted, a small smile coming over his face.

“I… I think some things should stay private.”

“How diplomatic,” Evelyn teased. “That concludes this interview. Thank you for your time, Steve.”

“Thank you, Evelyn.” When she turned off the recording, Steve began laughing. Her eyebrows knit together despite the smile on her face as she tried to figure out what he was laughing at. “You’re never going to let go of me and Peggy, are you?”

“Never. Not until I see a ring on her finger when this war is said and done.” Steve blushed deeply and rubbed the back of his neck, still chuckling.

“What about you and Bucky? When’s he proposing?” Evelyn’s gaze drifted down to the bedspread beneath them as she thought of her answer. For the longest time, she’d never wanted to get married and had never had a relationship that even slightly swayed her opinion. Now everything was different.

She loved him. Loved him enough to spend the rest of her life with him. If it was going to happen, it would have to happen after the war was over. But broaching the subject with him made her nervous in ways she had never felt before.

“Hey, Evelyn,” Steve said. She jerked her head up, realizing that she had been silent while thinking. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah! I’m fine!” she said a bit too enthusiastically. Steve’s slight grin fell and he became concerned.

“I’m sorry if I brought up-”

“It’s fine. I promise,” she said with a grin. And it was fine, truly. It was just a lot to think about at that moment. Steve nodded slowly, not seeming to take her word at face value. Evelyn reached down between them and stowed her recorder in her satchel before flipping her notebook closed and shoving it next to the recorder.

“So this was the last interview?” Steve asked.

“Yes,” Evelyn sighed as she set her socked feet on the cold ground to begin lacing her boots up.

“You’re not… you’re not leaving soon, are you?” Steve asked, his eyes following her movements. He lingered on where Evelyn’s right arm moved slower and couldn’t reach as far down as her left arm.

“Well, I don’t know. That’s a tricky question. I still can’t go out in the field with you fellas so my ability to work is limited.” She grunted the last word as she shoved her foot into her boot. “I can probably get another few weeks from my boss while I write but…”

“But your work here is done,” Steve finished glumly. Evelyn stood and looked at where Steve’s sorrowful gaze followed her. A slow nod. Her work had been drawing to a close for weeks now, her interview with Steve the last piece she needed to be finished. Fitting, that the start of her journey here would also be the end.

“I’ll send a telegram. When I hear back, you’ll know, okay?” Steve nodded and stood. He wrapped her in a hug, ever the gentle giant. They strolled outside together and were immediately greeted by someone calling Steve’s name.

They turned to see Colonel Phillips striding towards them, his tall figure underneath an umbrella despite the fact that there was no rain. Steve looked down at Evelyn and grinned before turning to speak to the colonel. Phillips barely spared her a nod before whisking Steve away.

Perhaps they were talking about the next mission. Maybe someone had done something to warrant corrective action and Steve needed to be informed. Hopefully, some significant news had come in and the war was almost over. Evelyn knew from what Bucky and the rest of the squadron told her that HYDRA was shrinking ever smaller, small enough to maybe be defeated in the near future.

Evelyn walked back to her own tent, her boots sinking into the soft earth and grass beneath her. As she neared their tent, in the midst of many others, she was surprised to see several people around it. Her first reaction was alarm, that maybe something had happened to Vanessa, but as she neared, she realized that the other people were soldiers she had never met before.

“Afternoon, ma’am,” one of them greeted as she reached the tent, carrying a bundle of sheets and blankets in his arms.

“What’s going on?” Evelyn asked, craning her neck to peek into the tent. Vanessa’s side of the tent was cleared out. Her bed was stripped, leaving a bare, flimsy mattress behind. The vanity was cleared off and the drawer in it was slightly ajar, showing that it, too, was empty.

“I’m leaving.” She whirled around to see Vanessa standing behind her, almost beside the next tent over. Her platinum hair was curled and pinned to perfection. Her red lipstick was stark against her pale skin. The cold was causing her cheeks and the tip of her nose to turn rosy, giving her color she otherwise would lack.

“Where are you going?” Evelyn asked, noticing how she sounded a bit confused and hurt.

“Home. My work is done.” Vanessa took a few steps closer, holding her satchel in one hand. She was wearing a princess coat belted tightly across her waist that Evelyn had never seen her wear before. When she reached up to brush a piece of hair out of her face, she caught sight of her leather gloves. This must be what Vanessa wore at home, Evelyn realized. She was telling the truth; she was leaving.

“I… Okay,” Evelyn breathed, any other words or protests dying on her tongue. What could she say, after all? They weren’t exactly close. She strode forwards to close the gap between them, digging into her satchel, intending to write down her address and her phone number so Vanessa could have them, but her gloved hands reached out to stop Evelyn’s.

“I’ll miss you,” Vanessa said sincerely, her brown eyes glistening. Evelyn nodded and tried her best to grin. On impulse, she reached out and wrapped her arms around the other woman who froze but only for a moment. Evelyn’s chin was scraped by the wool of Vanessa’s coat as they pulled back from each other, blinking rapidly.

Vanessa smiled at her once before turning to walk away, her coat swirling around her legs with every step. Evelyn stood there, motionless, watching her disappear around the corner of a tent. The familiar feeling of sadness emerged in her chest alongside confusion as to why she was upset.

True, they hadn’t been close and they’d had a rocky start but the kindness they’d shown each other since after Evelyn’s injury couldn’t be discounted. To have that kindness and that budding friendship ripped away without so much as a warning was perturbing.

But Evelyn understood. It was just a few days before Christmas, after all. A part of her wanted to return to the States to be with her family but she had a family here too and she couldn’t abandon them. Who knows how much longer she’d get to be with them?

Speaking of her family here, Evelyn strode off, her satchel bouncing against her hip, to try and find them. She managed to track down where Jim and Gabe were, jogging up to them as they smoked their cigarettes under the cover of a tree at the edge of camp.

“Did Vanessa tell either of you she was leaving?” Evelyn asked without waiting to greet them first. Jim leaned back and Gabe tilted his head at her.

“Last I checked, I had lunch with Price not even an hour ago. She didn’t say anything like that to me,” Gabe said.

“She just left. Her stuff is all gone and she was all dolled up. She said she was going home.” Evelyn’s voice hitched on the last word. Jim took a long drag of his cigarette before tossing it on the ground and stepping on it.

“I had no idea,” he mumbled to the ground. “And she didn’t say anything before?” Gabe shook his head, just as confused as the other two.

“It’s weird. She mentioned something about wanting to see her family but I didn’t think she was done with her work yet.” Gabe shrugged as if that was a satisfactory answer. Evelyn pursed her lips but nodded. Vanessa was gone. She was going back to Atlanta. She’d rather that over Vanessa dead on the battlefield.

“Alright. I’ll tell the others when I see them,” Evelyn grumbled petulantly.

“Hey,” Jim called as Evelyn began to walk away. She turned and looked up at him, expecting something comforting but all he said was, “Poker tonight?”

She nodded slowly before grinning softly. That was comforting in its own way, she supposed. Replying that she’d be there, Evelyn turned and walked on into the late afternoon, the cold nipping at her nose and winding its way into her jacket.

If Vanessa was already finished with her work, there wasn’t much time left on Evelyn’s project either. She was done compiling articles on every last commando except for Steve and they had just finished their interview. The words were coming to her all too easily, expediting her work. In her head, she could almost see the countdown. She just wanted it to end later rather than sooner.

She didn’t know if she’d get that luxury.

\---

Christmas and New Year’s passed with as much celebration that could be scrounged together on a military base. No presents were exchanged but with Vanessa having left a few days prior, Bucky stayed the night with Evelyn in her tent, sharing the tiny bed, wrapped up in each other.

The first snow of the winter came surprisingly late on New Year’s Eve just as they were all boisterously counting down the seconds according to Falsworth’s watch.

When Evelyn closed her eyes to kiss Bucky soundly on the lips, she felt a cold drop on her forehead. Leaning back and looking up, she saw that snowflakes were gently falling from the sky, landing in her dark hair and dusting her eyelashes.

A giggle escaped her as Bucky picked her up and twirled her around, laughing like a giddy schoolboy. It was the happiest she’d ever seen him.

“I love you,” he mumbled as he hovered close to her lips. Every time he said it, it made Evelyn’s heart stutter in the best way possible.

“I love you too.” It was the most natural phrase falling from her mouth. They kissed once more before they all decided to head to the edge of the forest and start a campfire. Sure, they could retreat into the barracks to play cards or tell stories or call it a night altogether, but the atmosphere was light and happy. Evelyn could almost pretend that they were all just friends on a camping trip.

She offered to run back to the barracks to grab blankets and a deck of cards just in case. The snowfall was as gentle as could be, a few flakes here and there, sticking to the twigs and leaves that crunched underfoot. Evelyn’s exhales turned to mist in front of her but she hardly felt the cold.

She passed other soldiers from other regiments and infantries celebrating with sparklers and music and, in some cases, liquor. On her way back, someone called a ‘Happy New Year’s!’ to her and she responded in kind. The whole base was alight with activity despite the late hour and the general dread hanging around the place. It warmed her heart to see.

As Evelyn neared the campfire the commandos had built, she paused in her tracks. Bucky and Steve were laughing uproariously, leaning into each other. Jacques, Gabe, and Jim were sitting on the other side of the fire, attempting to light their cigarettes with the campfire, laughing when they singed their fingers. She could even spot Falsworth’s smile and hear Dugan’s chortle from where she was standing.

She loved all of her friends so much. Soon, they’d be separated geographically by the end of the war and that was honestly the best case scenario. But Evelyn could allow herself to be here and now, cherishing the moments she had with them.

Taking several steps forwards, Falsworth looked up and caught sight of her. He stood and rushed over to help relieve her of her load.

“You’re an absolute darling, Evelyn,” he complimented as he took hold of the blankets.

“Likewise, Falsworth,” she said with a grin as he handed her one of the large swaths of cloth to keep for herself. She wrapped it around herself snuggly and hopped over to where Bucky was sitting, plopping down next to him.

“What, you’re not sharing with me?” Bucky asked with indignation as he tugged at the blanket. Evelyn responded by sinking down further into it, pulling it up just below her eyes. “Hey, Monty! Throw one over here!”

“Sharing is caring, Barnes,” Gabe chuckled, “Not everyone here has a beautiful girl to cuddle up to.” Bucky gestured to where Evelyn resembled a molehill with the blanket swimming around her legs and the top of her head sticking out. The other men just shrugged and laughed. 

With a theatrical roll of his eyes and a dramatic sigh, Bucky leaned into her, landing a small peck on the outside of the blanket approximately where her mouth would be. Evelyn wiggled her way out of the blanket so she could wrap it around both of them while Dugan launched into the story of how he and his wife met which they’d all heard before.

“So they have me on the floor, my shirt’s torn open, all the milk’s spilled across the alley,” Dugan laughed, “And then suddenly she’s standing over me next to these thugs and she goes-”

“‘Jesus, what an ugly mug!’” everyone chorused, having heard the story multiple times before. 

Jim raised his flask in a toast and said, “And you knew you wanted to marry her then and there.” Dugan leaned back, running a hand over his face as he laughed heartily.

Evelyn leaned into Bucky’s side, nuzzling her face against his shoulder. He wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head once more. She wanted to stay here, by the campfire with her friends for the rest of time.

How long they sat out there, she couldn’t say. They laughed and drank and played cards and told stories until their fire burned low and Evelyn couldn’t hold back her yawns anymore. Her face was warm from the fire. Her gaze traced sparks as they floated into the sky. She closed her eyes, just to rest them, and woke up when Bucky was hauling her up onto her feet.

“Come on, darlin’,” Bucky said softly. “Time for bed.” The fire was now no more than a pile of coals and burnt wood, glowing with a soft red light. The clouds above had parted and, by the light of the stars and the moon, Bucky led them back to Evelyn’s tent.

“Will you stay?” she asked. He nodded. Of course he would. Evelyn slipped her boots off but didn’t bother undressing the rest of the way before she crawled into bed. When Bucky urged her to scoot over slightly, she did, and when he wrapped his arms around her, she sighed with contentment.

“I love you,” she mumbled sleepily.

“I love you too.”

Evelyn grinned just as she was drifting off into sleep again, her blanket smelling of the campfire.


	10. Abrupt and Unfair

_ “When someone leaves your life, those exits are not made equal. Some are beautiful and poetic and satisfying. Others are abrupt and unfair. But most are just unremarkable, unintentional, clumsy.” - Griffin McElroy, The Adventure Zone: Balance _

* * *

_ “I’ll be back in three days. I love you.” _

Evelyn was replaying Bucky’s words in her head on the third day he was gone as she stood at her desk, finishing packing her workstation. She was due to return to the States in just a few days and with the commandos being gone on a mission, she decided to take it upon herself to make sure her things were packed properly. As she placed the last notebook in a small box to be shipped home with her, a private walked up to her and stood at attention.

“Ma’am, Colonel Phillips would like to see you,” he stated. Evelyn sighed and brushed her hands off on her black trousers. What did that man want now? She nodded at the private and thanked him but he didn’t leave. “Now, ma’am. It’s urgent.”

“Oh, come on,” she grumbled. Evelyn had other business to attend to; she didn’t need Phillips breathing down her neck about something insignificant. Nonetheless, she followed the private to Phillips’ office and entered when the private turned to leave.

“Good afternoon, Miss Thomas,” Phillips stated as she entered. “Please, take a seat.” She did so, burying her hands into the pockets of her brown aviator jacket, hoping to hide them from the chill ever present in the late January air.

“Have you ever heard of Arnim Zola?” Phillips tossed down a few grayscale photos of a small man with a bald head and glasses. Evelyn pushed the pictures back at him, shaking her head. It was a lie, of course. She knew the name Zola. She’d read it over a year ago when she pulled out a blacked out file on HYDRA. Phillips was pacing back and forth behind his desk, fiddling with a piece of paper with something typed on it.

“He’s the brains behind the leader of HYDRA, Johann Schmidt. Schmidt comes up with the ideas, Zola brings them to life. Making weaponry, experimenting on POWs, and the like.” Evelyn’s fingers twitched with the urge to write the information down, despite not having anything to write with. She’d have to remember it for later. “We’ve captured him.”

“Good,” Evelyn stated, leaving her unsaid question hanging in the air. Why was he telling her this? Phillips took a breath, looked at her, and looked back down at the piece of paper in his hands.

“We’d like for you to be there to photograph when we bring him on base.”

“Of course.” She began to stand, readying herself to leave, when Phillips placed the paper down on the desk and sighed. Evelyn stopped and slowly sat back down, unease growing in the pit of her stomach.

“Evelyn…” he started. 

_ What? _

“It is with my deepest condolences…”

_ No… _

“That I must inform you…”

_ Please, no… _

“That Sergeant James Barnes was killed in action yesterday.” Evelyn sat still as a statue. Her fingers and toes were becoming cold, that icy shock quickly seeping through every vein in her body. Her breaths were stuttering as she tried to hold in her sobs.

“I… I-”

“I am very sorry, Evelyn,” Phillips said softly. He pushed the paper towards her, sliding it over the photos of Arnim Zola. As she read the first few lines, she covered her mouth with a trembling hand.

_ Dear Mr. and Mrs. Barnes, _

_ It is with our deepest regret that we must inform you that your son, James, was killed in action on the- _

Evelyn sobbed into her hand. She felt the wetness of tears on her face, dripping down onto her hand before falling onto her jacket. Her heart was twisting violently and she felt as though she would be sick.

“Why didn’t… why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Evelyn cried as she ripped her hand away from her mouth. She wanted to scream. She wanted to throw things. It wasn’t fair.  _ It wasn’t fair. _

“I just found out myself an hour ago. We’re sending the letter out with the evening post. It’ll reach his family tomorrow night,” Phillips said, his gaze staunchly fixed on the dark wooden desk. Gulping in breaths between her sobs, Evelyn tried to stand. She had to go somewhere that wasn’t here. She had to be alone with her grief.

“Miss Thomas,” Phillips called when she turned her back, swaying on her feet. “The men will be here in twenty minutes. Please have your camera ready and be at the south end of camp.”

She nodded, his words barely making sense to her, before she walked out. The cold air was a slap in the face but it was nothing compared to the cold emptiness in her chest.

As she walked back to her tent, the tears subsided. Her face was tingling unpleasantly and the tracks where the tears had streamed down burned. She rubbed her face violently, smudging her rouge and smearing her lipstick. She had to… she had to work. She had to get this last thing done and then she could focus on her loss.

Tearing the despair and heartbreak away from the forefront of her thoughts was agonizing. She shoved those feelings into a box and sighed deeply, trying to steady her heart rate. Stepping inside her tent almost made her scream. 

Bucky’s smiling face stared back at her from several photos shoved into the frame of her vanity mirror. Refusing to look at them, she sat down carefully at her vanity and began to clean her smudged makeup. The tears overflowed once more despite her best efforts.

Eventually, her face was clean save for her red rimmed eyes and blotchy cheeks. With violently trembling hands, Evelyn grabbed her camera and headed out towards the south end of camp. She hardly needed any direction as soldiers were pointing and murmuring about something happening down that way. They also pointed and murmured about Evelyn. She didn’t care.

A large military issued truck was idling at the end of camp. Evelyn rolled a piece of film into place, raised her camera, and snapped a picture. The motions were mechanical, robotic almost, done purely on muscle memory.

Then a man clambered out of the truck. Dugan. He caught sight of her and quickly looked away, his large mustache unable to hide his frown. One after the other, the commandos filed out of the back of the truck with Steve being last, holding onto a handcuffed Zola.

Despite what she knew to be true, Evelyn still expected to see Bucky hop out of the truck and rush over to see her. When no one else got out, she had to hold back another sob. The pain in her chest was violent, comparable to when she had been shot.

The part of her mind that was able to think straight told her to raise her camera and photograph Steve leading Zola past her to the only cinderblock building in the camp. What it was used for, she never knew, but she supposed it was a makeshift prison.

Zola looked over at her and they made eye contact as Evelyn rolled another piece of film into place.

Arnim Zola. She rolled the name around in her mind as they neared her. He built weapons. He experimented on soldiers. 

He experimented on Bucky. He tortured him. He killed him.

Evelyn’s chest burned with emotions that were previously unknown to her. Rage. Anguish. Hostility. She wanted to reach out and rake her nails across Zola’s face. She wanted to hit him. She wanted to make him feel just a fraction of the pain that she was feeling. She wanted him to know how it felt to have your whole life taken away.

The tears had started up steadily but she forced herself to raise her camera and take another picture. Zola and Steve marched past her, Steve determinedly avoiding her gaze, and up to the small building, disappearing inside quickly. The rest of the commandos walked up to her and their faces told her everything she needed to know.

He was really gone.

“Evelyn, we’re so sorry,” Gabe said so softly she almost couldn’t hear him. She nodded, her thanks stuck in her throat as a hard lump. Swallowing hard, she managed to tell him that she was sorry for them too.

It was hard for her to remember that she hadn’t just lost her lover; they’d lost a dear friend and a comrade. She’d have to talk to Steve and express her condolences but it would have to happen when she had a clear head. Right now, the heartbreak and anguish were threatening to overtake her. She had to get away.

“Evelyn-” Dugan started, reaching out to her. His fingers grazed her shoulder and she jerked back as though she’d been hit. Shaking her head, she tried to stammer an apology, an explanation, something, but her breaths were quickening and sobs were building in her chest again.

Turning her back on her dearest friends in the whole world, Evelyn ran. She ran blindly, smacking into a soldier, not bothering to apologize before continuing on. Her tent loomed into view and she tumbled in, her chest heaving with the exertion of her run combined with the force of her sobs. 

Her lungs were on fire. Her face was tingling. She was trembling all over. This was why she hated crying so much. It was just as physical of a release as it was emotional.

Evelyn tried to take two steps into the tent but didn’t get even that far before her legs gave out. Her knees hit the cold, unforgiving ground, screaming in pain but it barely registered to her.

_ “I’ll be back in three days. I love you.” _

A sob ripped its way out of her throat. It was violent, ugly, harsh. She braced her hands on the floor in front of her, trying to remain semi-upright. If she laid down now, she didn’t know that she’d ever get up.

Fragments of thoughts swam through her head as she shifted so that her back was against a metal leg of her bed. She managed to focus on a few of them as she sobbed loudly. She wanted Steve. She wanted her brother. She wanted Bucky.

She wanted him to come back and wrap his arms around her and kiss her on the forehead and tell her she was going to be alright and dance with her in the kitchen and-

Something that sounded like a faraway scream reached her ears. All too late, she realized that it was her.

How long she sat there, she couldn’t say, but when she did stop crying, it was dark. Her tent was pitch black. Exhausted, she couldn’t bring herself to stand or turn on the lights or crawl into bed. She was too exhausted to even sleep.

“Evelyn?” Listlessly, she turned her head towards the entrance to the tent where a man had pulled back the cloth and was peeking in. Steve. He’d come to see her. She wanted to say something but her mouth felt like it was stuffed full of cotton. When she did try, her throat immediately protested, now raw.

But she must have made some noise his super soldier ears picked up because he came into the darkness with her. She felt and heard rather than saw him sit down next to her. His hand, fumbling and unsure when he was unable to see, found her shoulder and then her arm and then her hand. He clutched on so hard it hurt.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” Evelyn whispered.

“I’m sorry too.” Then he leaned his head on her shoulder, having to bend down considerably to do it. She reached her free hand up to stroke his hair. His shoulders shook with silent sobs and she could feel his hand trembling.

Evelyn was grateful for the darkness. In the darkness, they didn’t have to pretend that the grief wasn’t there. They didn’t have to be stoic. They could let their emotions take hold for however long the darkness remained. They could be human.

Slowly, the tears stopped. They stopped shaking. Fatigue began to take over. Evelyn felt her head lolling from side to side, her eyes closing and opening and closing again. The next few minutes were hazy at best.

Steve slowly leaned back from her and stood, his hand tugging Evelyn upwards. He hauled her up and helped her get onto the bed; she was unbelievably dizzy, her head spinning as she laid down. Whether she or Steve pulled the blanket over her shoulders, she was unsure. Steve mumbled something to her before leaving the tent but she was already falling asleep and didn’t hear him.

Evelyn Thomas woke up to a frigid day, the cold seeping into her blanket and biting her nose. She sneezed into the crook of her elbow. Her muscles protested as she lifted and dropped her arm quickly. Slowly, she sat up, her head pounding and her eyes burning. 

At the back of the tent where the vanities stood, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her hair was a tangled mess. Her eyes were bloodshot and red rimmed. Her skin was blotchy around her cheeks. She looked truly pathetic.

But Bucky would’ve said she was beautiful.

“Evelyn?” someone called from outside the tent before peeking in. The dim light that had been filtering in through the cloth now intensified when one of the flaps was pulled aside. Falsworth had been the one to call her name.

“Hi,” Evelyn croaked, attempting to swing her legs over the edge of the bed. The blanket was tangled around her, indicating that she had tossed and turned in her sleep. Her aviator jacket was twisted around her torso and her heavy boots were dragging her feet down.

“Would you like to eat? It’s almost 1400.” he asked. Evelyn stared off into the space beside him, at what used to be Vanessa’s bed.

“That’s… two in the afternoon?” she mumbled.

“Just about, yes,” Falsworth said, pity and pain apparent in his eyes as he looked her over once. She nodded just as her stomach growled loudly. “I’ll bring you something.”

“Thank you.” He nodded at her before exiting the tent. After the sound of his footsteps retreated, Evelyn stood slowly, regaining feeling in her numb toes. She began to go through the robotic motions of getting undressed only to get into another set of clothes, these ones clean and unworn. When she was in the middle of taking her hair down, the flap of her tent moved slightly.

“Can I come in?” Falsworth asked. She called a hoarse reply and he entered, bearing a tray of food. It was obviously a hodgepodge of what had been available in the kitchen: berries, bread, crackers with peanut butter, and a few strips of jerky. None of it would give her much nutrition but it would settle her stomach.

Evelyn took the food and set it on the vanity, staring at it for a moment before beginning to mechanically eat the bread. It felt dry and crumbly in her mouth. Falsworth glanced at her as he perched gently on her bed on top of the mess of sheets and blankets. They sat in silence for several moments, Evelyn’s gaze fixed on the middle distance by Vanessa’s old bed.

“When are you leaving?” he asked so softly she almost didn’t hear him.

“Day after tomorrow.” He nodded solemnly. His hands were in his lap, fiddling with his red uniform hat.

“We will be there to see you off.” The sentiment brought tears to her eyes. She tried to swallow around the lump that had developed in her throat.

“Thank you,” she whispered. Falsworth nodded. He opened his mouth to say something and seemingly decided against it as he stood before walking out without a second glance. 

Once more alone, more alone than she ever had been, Evelyn found that the tears came easily this time. There was no screaming, there was no sobbing. There was hardly more than a slight hitch in her breathing to signify that she was crying at all.

Knowing that she needed to, she finished eating. Turning to face the mirror once more, she grabbed her brush before wiping away the tear tracks with her sweatshirt sleeve. Her hand shook slightly as she brushed through her dark hair. 

Once her hair was untangled and smooth, she reached for her hairpins that she’d discarded earlier but she decided against it. Her muscles were still sore and her hands were too unsteady to create any sort of hairstyle.

Evelyn’s hands swept her hair back from her face and began the familiar motions of a French braid. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine that it was Will braiding her hair when they were younger, before all of this happened. Before the war. Before the Howling Commandos. Before Bucky.

She opened her eyes, having completed her braid and tied it off.

_ Would you go back? Knowing what you know, would you go back and do it over again? _

The answer was immediate: yes. She would live a thousand lifetimes with Bucky, over and over again, with every laugh and every heartbreak.

But this lifetime wasn’t over yet. She had more of her life to live. For Bucky, for what they could have become, for the love he had for her, for  _ herself _ , she’d continue on.

\---

Two days passed in a haze of packing up not only her things but Bucky’s as well. She was in the barracks, organizing the trunk she’d been given to pack up his belongings, when Steve turned to her, holding a stack of envelopes. He’d found them in the bedside drawer. Some were thick, some barely contained one page.

As Evelyn reached out, she already knew what they were. They were letters to her. Each one had her address and her name written on it but none of them were postmarked. Steve nodded at her before stepping away to give her privacy while she opened them.

She wouldn’t sit there and open and read them all, of course, she thought practically. She had far too much work to do and far too little time to continue grieving. But she’d open a few and skim through them.

****\---

**_August 12th, 1943_ **

_ Dear Evelyn, _

_ You just left and already I’m missing you. It’s strange how quickly you can come to enjoy someone’s company so much. I keep waiting for Rebecca, my sister, to write and tell me that my picture is in the Times and then I can tell her all about the beautiful reporter that I met. _

****\---

**_August 31st, 1943_ **

_ Dear Evelyn, _

_ I’m marching out to Azzano tomorrow. I’m going to leave this letter here so that if something happens, you’ll know that I thought of you right before I left. _

****\---

**_November 5th, 1943_ **

_ Evelyn, _

_ You saved me. I don’t mean just literally. You saved me from becoming someone I despised, someone who sees war as a casual thing, someone who doesn't feel anything when they’re on the battlefield. I’m so grateful to have you in my life. _

\---

**_February 17th, 1944_ **

_ Dear Evie, _

_ I miss you more than words could say. I wish you were here with me.  _

****\---

**_August 21st, 1944_ **

_ Evie, _

_ I don’t know if I’ll ever send this letter. I’ll probably make it halfway to the mail tent and chicken out. But I need to tell you if only on paper. _

_ I love you. _

\---

Evelyn swiftly closed the letter and placed it back in its original envelope, inhaling forcefully as she looked up to stop the tears from welling up again. She loved him so much. With every beat of her heart, she felt his absence. She wondered when that would begin to fade.

“Is that the last of it?” Evelyn asked after clearing her throat, turning her head halfway to where Steve stood behind her.

“It is.”

“Well…” she began as she nodded slowly, “I suppose that’s that.” Standing, she turned to face Steve who looked simultaneously pained and worried for Evelyn. He crossed his arms over his chest and nodded as well.

“Your bag is packed for the plane?” Steve asked. She gestured vaguely over her shoulder to where her lone suitcase sat on the bed next to Bucky’s. The rest of her things, including her camera and her interviews and her articles, had been shipped back in the days prior, due to reach New York when she did.

Steve flipped his wrist over to check his watch. He didn’t seem to like what he saw but told her nonetheless. It was time to go.

Evelyn walked outside with Steve holding her suitcase easily in one hand alongside her. They reached the entrance to the base where a car and a driver were waiting patiently. The Howling Commandos were all there too, together in one spot for the first time since Bucky’s death. She smiled at them as Steve walked over to put her suitcase in the trunk, her hair blown across her face by the gentle wind.

The first one to reach out to her was Dugan. His large frame had to bend down to give her a proper hug. They all followed one by one. Jim, then Falsworth, then Gabe, then Jacques. All hugging her, all not uttering a word. The atmosphere was thick with sadness, remorse, and grief.

Evelyn did her best to smile at each of her boys in turn but by the time she reached Steve, it was impossible to grin. She grabbed onto him first, burying her face in his chest. His hands smoothed up and down her back soothingly.

She knew what she was doing with these goodbyes; she was stalling. She didn’t want to get in that car, on that plane, into her New York apartment which was cold and empty. Steve knew it too. They all knew and they were allowing her these stolen moments. But even stolen moments are only moments.

Evelyn leaned back from Steve and looked up at him, blue eyes meeting green ones.

“Stay safe, okay?” he asked.

“I will.” Her voice was hoarse and unsteady but she knew that this was a promise. She sighed deeply before stepping towards the car. Every step ached but she forced herself to continue on. The driver reached to open the door for her and she clambered in, tucking her black coat underneath her leg to prevent it from getting caught in the door.

She’d dug the ratty thing out of her trunk before it was sent off and donned it for a few days. It now felt entirely too small for her as though it was meant to fit on some other version of Evelyn that no longer existed.

The car slowly pulled away from the men she had come to know and love. She forced herself to not look back.

The drive to the airstrip and the subsequent flight passed rather quickly. Everything did these past few days.

When she got to her apartment, about to unlock her door, one of the landlords passed by her and exclaimed.

“I wasn’t sure you still lived here!” he chuckled. Evelyn forced a polite smile onto her face despite the exhaustion she felt after travelling. “I have some mail for you down in the office if you’ll follow me.”

After debating leaving her suitcase at the door, she eventually hefted it and walked after the landlord. Thankfully, he was quick in his work, handing her the thick stack of envelopes and shooing her out of his office.

The first envelope on top was addressed to her from the Barnes family in upstate New York. She knew that when she opened it, she’d find an invitation to Bucky’s funeral.

When she arrived back up at her apartment, she wasn’t surprised to find music already playing inside.

A small, genuine smile played over her lips as she let herself in.

“Welcome home!” Will called from the kitchen. He walked in, holding two Cokes, before catching sight of her. His face dropped and his angular features contorted into an expression of wary confusion. “You’re… different.”

“Gee, thanks,” Evelyn said, trying to inject humor into her voice and miserably failing. Will set the Cokes down on the coffee table and stepped closer. His hands landed on her shoulders and he examined her closely.

“You look sad,” he said softly, perhaps knowing what was coming next.

“He… Bucky died,” Evelyn said on an exhale, her chin trembling. It was the first time she’d said it aloud. It felt so foreign and unwelcome in her mouth. Will’s green gaze stared at her for a moment, tracing the tears that started flowing down her cheeks. He jerked his chin towards the couch and she followed, leaving her suitcase at the door. She tossed the stack of mail on the table, letting it land with a small thump.

“Tell me about him.”

“What?” Evelyn asked, reasonably perplexed. He already knew who he was.

“Tell me about Bucky. Tell me about the man you fell in love with.” Will was looking at her in an earnest, genuine way she hadn’t ever seen in their whole lives together. Evelyn nodded and took a deep breath. She began to speak.

\---

The air was balmy and cool in the early May afternoon. The cemetery was full of trees and flowers and lush green grass. It was a beautiful spot to hold the funeral.

Evelyn stood there in her only black dress, her hands clasped in front of her as she stared at the headstone.

_ James “Bucky” Barnes _

_ March 10th, 1917- January 16th, 1945 _

The service had been lovely. It had also ended almost twenty minutes ago. She knew there was to be a gathering at the Barnes estate but she knew she wasn’t going to go. Immediately after the service, she had even been unable to bring herself to say something to his family in spite of Will’s gentle insistence that she should.

Everyone had mostly dispersed and Will was waiting for her at their car but Evelyn couldn’t leave just yet. She kept reminding herself that his body wasn’t there, that this was just a headstone, but saying goodbye now still seemed too soon.

“Evelyn?” She turned at the sound of her name, her skirt swirling around her knees. A woman stood there, younger than herself, also in a black dress, with eyes the same shade of blue as Bucky’s. The more she looked, the more she saw Bucky in her. The shape of her nose, the angle of her jaw, the dark hair.

“Rebecca,” she greeted. Bucky had spoken so highly of his sister that it was hard for Evelyn to not recognize her. Rebecca’s eyes flicked to the headstone before looking back up at her. Her hands were tucked underneath her armpits, bracing against the wind that had picked up.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” she said. “Bucky sent me so many letters about you.” Evelyn’s chin began trembling and she looked down at her feet to try and stop it.

Looking back up, she gave a quick grin and said, “I’ve also heard a lot about you. All good things, I promise.” Rebecca’s lips quirked into a smile that reminded her so much of the lopsided smirk Bucky would give her. It tugged at her heart. She looked over her shoulder at where her parents were saying goodbye to the last few attendees by the road.

“Thank you,” Rebecca said suddenly as though she was afraid of being cut off.

“For what?” Tears shined in Rebecca’s eyes but she continued on bravely, unashamed of them.

“For loving him. He loved you too.” Evelyn smiled softly but she was blinking rapidly to try and get rid of the tears. Rebecca’s hands dropped suddenly and she began to reach out as though to pull Evelyn into a hug. She stopped halfway between them before pulling back and nodding. She grinned a grin full of remorse and longing before turning and walking away.

Evelyn caught her brother’s eye by their car and she nodded. Taking a few steps forwards, she stopped and turned back to the headstone once more.

Time and time again, she had said goodbye to Bucky, not knowing if it would ever be her last time. Now that the last time was here, she wasn’t ready. She didn’t think she’d ever be ready. Her heart caught in her throat, her breaths surprisingly even, she looked at the headstone and closed her eyes.

_ Goodbye, Bucky.  _

Evelyn Thomas opened her eyes, turned around, and began walking to her brother’s car. A bird chirped in a nearby tree. The cool breeze blew across her face. Will grinned softly at her. She didn’t look back.


	11. Epilogue

_ “Somewhere on the other side of this wide night and the distance between us, I am thinking of you.” -Carol Ann Duffy _

* * *

Evelyn Thomas walked into her office at the Smithsonian Institution, gray streaks in her still lustrous hair and green eyes as sharp as ever. It was still early in the morning; no one but the security guards were in the building to greet her. 

She clicked on the lights and made her way to the mahogany desk at the back of the wide room. The wall behind her desk was decorated with diplomas, old copies of articles, and black and white photos. 

Setting down her bag and unpacking, she listened to the hum of the fluorescent lights above her, deciding quickly to reach over to the small radio perched on the corner of her desk and turn it on quietly. Billie Holiday’s voice emanated from it, soft and staticky. Might as well get her fill of music for the day before the rest of the academics arrived and she had to turn it off.

She had no personal photos on her desk or walls, choosing instead to display her old work. Pictures of men in military uniforms, headshots, pictures of maps and men tromping through the forest. Save for one.

A small photo hung on the wooden paneled wall, in the corner of the multitude of frames. Evelyn stood with a group of men, looking down at her camera with a genuine smile. The men around her were grinning but none of them were looking at the person taking the photo, looking at each other instead. Next to her stood a tall, broad man with dark hair and a charming smile, staring at Evelyn as though no one else was around them.

Evelyn took out a navy binder she’d kept in her house for many years and sat down to flip through it as she had at least once a year for almost twenty years now. She was searching for any details she had missed that could go into her work.

A soft knock.

“Come in.” A young woman peeked her head in and grinned. She had short black hair curled and pinned in a way that Evelyn would have done it at her age.

“Good morning, Miss Thomas,” she greeted in her usual soft voice.

“Good morning, Emma. How can I help you?” Evelyn replied, setting down the binder open on her desk. Emma stepped forwards, adjusting the collar on her green cardigan. She was a young woman working on getting her bachelor’s in American history and thus was granted an interning opportunity at the Smithsonian. The new American history museum was due to open in just a week, after all.

“I was wondering if you had the last of the photos for the exhibit. We’re framing them down the hall and Mr. Ibanez asked me to… to ask you,” she said, trailing off nervously and clearing her throat. Evelyn smiled kindly, crow’s feet wrinkling the outside of her eyes.

“Of course,” she said before checking the label on a manila folder to make sure it was the right one. 

HOWLING COMMANDOS, 1943-45

She passed the file over and Emma, out of sheer curiosity, opened it up right away. She flipped through a few of the photos before stopping, her brow knitting in confusion. Her dark eyes glanced up before glancing back down.

“Something wrong?” Evelyn asked, knowing full well what she had seen. Emma took out one of the photos and showed it to her.

A young man and a young woman sitting in the back of an army issued vehicle, laughing at something behind the camera. Their hair was windblown. The young woman was wearing khaki pants, a white button down shirt rolled up to her elbows, and an armband with a black ‘C’ on it. The man was dressed similarly save for the armband.

“Is that you?” Emma asked. Evelyn grinned, a touch of sadness behind her eyes.

“Yes.”

“Who’s the man?” Her gaze drifted over Bucky’s face, caught mid-laugh, as handsome as she remembered. She was caught up in the memory of Steve crouching in front of them with Evelyn’s camera in hand but both of them too distracted by Jacques setting off a firework next to the barracks of the new recruits.

“You’re quite curious, aren’t you?” Evelyn asked. Emma flushed immediately, bright red and blotchy against her porcelain skin. “It’s okay. Asking questions is a good thing.”

Emma tucked the photo back into the manila folder and nodded, her eyes falling to the binder on the desk. She pointed a slim finger at it.

“Is that meant for the Howling Commandos exhibit as well?” Evelyn looked down at the pages. Bucky’s handwriting stared back at her from where she’d ever so carefully put his letters in the page protectors. Almost reverently, Evelyn closed the binder and laid a slightly wrinkled hand on top of it.

“No,” she answered softly. Emma nodded slowly, confused but comprehending the gravity of Evelyn’s actions, before turning and leaving. The Howling Commandos exhibit could have the story of her and her friends, her photos, her work. But these letters, these were hers. Hers and Bucky’s and no one else’s.

\---

**_August 21st, 1944_ **

_ Evie, _

_ I don’t know if I’ll ever send this letter. I’ll probably make it halfway to the mail tent and chicken out. But I need to tell you if only on paper. _

_ I love you. _

_ I love you with every breath, every word, everything in me. I love you so much that it aches sometimes. I love you so much that I can’t imagine living without you. _

_ When this war is over, I want to spend the rest of our days together. I don’t care where. I don’t care if we have to live in a tiny apartment like in London. I don’t care if we live in a mansion. As long as you’re with me, as long as you love me too, anywhere is home to me. _

_ I love you. _

_ Forever yours, _

_ Bucky _


End file.
